,1 


BV  4501  .S282  1865 
Savage,  Sarah  Chauncey. 
Manoah 


MANOAH: 


on. 


iromisc  of  lire  JEife  that  iioiu  is. 


Mrs.  3a.a.',-,    CJr:  .  .    C 


•«x  d-e_ 


Bv  THE  AUTHOR  or 


THE  FORMATION  OF  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF,"   "THE  RIGHT 

USE  OF  SPEECH,"  Ac. 


Surely  thy  sweet  and  wondrous  love 
Shall  measure  all  my  days  ; 

And  as  it  never  shall  remove, 
So  neither  shall  my  praise. 

GEoncE  Herbert. 


PHILADELPHIA; 

GEORGE  W.  CHILDS,  BOOKSELLER   AND  PUBLISHER, 

Nos.  62S  AND  633  Chestnut  Street. 
18G5. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1865,  by 

GEORGE  W.  GUILDS, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


HENRY  B.  ASHMEAD,  BOOK  AND  JOB  PRINTER, 
Xo3.  1102  and  1101  Sansom  Street. 


MANOAH; 


PROMISE  OF  THE  LIFE  THAT  NOW  IS. 


''  Godliness,"  saith  the  Scripture,  "  is  profitable 
imto  all  things,  having  promise  of  the  life  that  now 
is,  and  of  that  which  is  to  come."  With  reirarcl  to 
the  life  that  is  to  come,  the  promise  is  to  be  viewed 
only  in  its  general  tenor.  Relating  to  a  totally 
different  sphere  and  mode  of  existence,  it  cannot 
furnish  a  precise  account  of  the  conditions  which 
it  announces.  It  simply  sets  before  us  the  bless- 
ing and  the  curse, — on  the  one  side,  entire  ex- 
emption from  evil  and  attainment  to  the  highest 
intelligence  and  happiness ;    on  the   other,  incal- 


4  PROMISE   OF    THE 

culable  increase  of  sufferin,!!;  and  irrecoverable 
and  continuous  moral  declension.  The  figurative 
presentment  of  the  future  state  is  adapted  to  human 
conceptions,  and,  according  to  the  intention  of  such 
language,  gives  shape  and  substance  to  abstract  or 
purely  spiritual  thought.  An  affluent  yet  familiar 
imagery  affords  not  so  much  a  description  as  a 
standard  of  comparison  whereby  to  estimate  the 
blessedness  of  heaven.  Pure  gold  and  precious 
stones,  white  raiment,  the  crown  and  the  harp, 
unfadinii'  light  and  livimr  fountains,  assure  us  that 
all  that  w^e  can  apprehend  of  beauty  and  delight, 
of  dignity  and  permanence,  pertains  to  the  abode 
and  being  of  those  wdiose  names  are  written  in  the 
Lamb's  book  of  life. 

As  it  regards  the  life  that  now  is,  the  promise 
is  more  susceptible  of  examination.  AVe  are  per- 
mitted to  ascertain  not  only  its  import  but  its 
minutest  application.     The  Scripture  declares  the 


LIFE    THAT   NOW   IS.  0 

profitableness  of  godliness,  states  in  what  it  con- 
sists, and  exhibits  God's  dealings  with  those  who 
are  his  children  not  bv  creation  only,  but  by  re- 
generation and  adoption.  In  all  time  the  fulfilment 
of  the  promise  is  discernible.  But  it  must  often 
be  traced  through  dissimilar  appearances  and  dis- 
connected operations  and  effects,  and  with  no  small 
hinderance  of  careless  observation  and  imperfect 
apprehension  on  the  part  of  Christians  themselves. 
Not  without  reason  may  they  sometimes  be  deemed 
ignorant  of  the  true  objects  of  desire,  and  of  what 
constitutes  the  promise  which  they  profess  to  ap- 
preciate and  claim. 

Scripture  promise  or  assurance  concerning  our 
present  or  eternal  state,  is  of  the  nature  of  a  cove- 
nant. It  is  God's  announcement  that  on  the  per- 
formance of  certain  conditions  he  will  bestow  cer- 
tain benefits.  The  knowledge  of  God  and  of  his 
requirements  is  essential  to  the  entertainment  of 


6  PROMISE    OF    THE 

the  promise  because  essential  to  the  intelligent 
consideration  of  its  provisions.  The  means  of 
acquaintance  with  God  are  dudy  of  the  Scrip- 
fures  and  prayer.  With  each  of  these  is  connected 
a  special  and  spiritual  influence.  Each  method  is 
dependent  on  the  other.  With  fuller  perception 
of  God  as  he  is  revealed  in  his  word,  there  must 
be  an  increasing  sense  of  personal  concernment 
in  his  declarations  and  an  increasing  desire  of  ap- 
plication to  him.  Prayer  is  based  on  the  repre- 
sentations of  God  contained  in  the  Bible,  on  the 
modes  of  approach  therein  indicated,  on  the  hopes 
therein  provided  of  answer  and  acceptance.  It  is 
not  simply  recognition  of  God  as  Creator  and 
Ruler,  nor  petition  for  the  supply  of  our  wants. 
It  is  a  means  of  acquiring  spiritual  wisdom  which 
God  has  appointed  and  distinguished.  It  exer- 
cises a  reflex  action,  but  that  is  subordinate  to  its 
use  as  a  medium  of  Divine  communication.    If  the 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  ( 

Christian  obtains  a  right  understanding  of  prayer, 
he  is  instructed  not  only  as  to  his  present  character 
and  condition,  but  also  as  to  the  relations,  capa- 
bilities, and  needs  which  connect  him  for  ever  with 
God  and  a  purely  spiritual  existence.  To  know 
these,  is  to  be  persuaded  of  the  reasonableness  of 
godliness,  and  to  estimate  aright  the  promise  af- 
forded to  such  a  habit  of  mind  and  life. 

No  Christian  duty,  perhaps,  has  been  more 
discussed,  illustrated,  and  enforced,  than  that  of 
prayer.  As  a  theory,  prayer  occupies  a  prominent 
position  in  the  theological  system.  From  the  ex- 
istence and  sovereignty  of  a  Creator  are  immedi- 
ately deduced  the  relation  and  obligation  of  the 
creature.  Prayer  is  an  expression  or  confession 
of  this  relation,  and  of  all  that  it  includes.  It  is 
intercourse  with  God.  It  is  a  voice  out  of  the 
silence  of  material  creation  asking  for  explanation 
of  what  is,  for  direction  as  to  what  is  to  be  done. 


O  PROMISE    OF    THE 

The  mind  untaught  by  Ilevelation  may  perceive 
the  truth  in  part  by  the  things  which  are  marie, 
understanding  by  them  eternal  power  and  God- 
head. If  it  glorifies  this  power  as  God,  and  is 
thankful  for  the  gifts  of  the  visible  creation,  it 
performs  the  act  of  prayer. 

The  subject  of  prayer  is  presented  with  remark- 
able fulness  in  both  the  history  and  the  doctrine  of 
the  Bible.  Some  scriptural  commands  are  com- 
paratively obscure.  Many  particulars  connected 
with  the  required  performance  are  omitted  in  the 
precept.  The  motive  is  exhibited  rather  than  the 
mode.  But  the  duty  of  prayer,  though  partly 
contingent  as  to  time,  attitude,  and  expression,  is 
so  definitely  presented  that  neither  perplexity  nor 
misapprehension  is  possible.  We  are  commanded 
and  entreated  to  pray.  We  are  to  pray  humbly 
and  to  pray  boldly.  We  are  to  pray  in  season — 
at  the  convenient  and  appointed  times,  and  out  of 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  9 

season — at  the  times  ordinarily  otherwise  employ- 
ed. We  are  to  pray  in  joy  and  in  sorrow,  alone 
and  in  company,  in  our  own  house,  and  in  the 
house  of  God.  We  may  pray  with  lifted  voices, 
or,  like  Hannah,  speaking  in  our  hearts.  No 
human  eye  may  behold  the  moving  of  our  lips,  no 
sound  fall  from  them  on  human  ear,  but  God  un- 
derstandeth  our  thought  afar  off.  We  cannot 
pray  too  often.  Importunity  is  effective  with  the 
selfish  friend  and  the  unjust  judge.  God,  both 
bountiful  and  righteous,  sometimes  grants  to  the 
one  asking,  opens  to  the  one  knocking ;  or,  if  he 
sees  fit  to  "bear  long"  and  allow  his  elect  to  cry 
day  and  night  to  him,  in  his  own  time  he  will 
avenge  them  speedily.  We  can  never  be  wuthout 
hope  that  he  will  hear  us ;  nor,  so  broad  is  the 
sphere,  so  multiform  the  mode  of  his  operation, 
can  we  perhaps  ever  decide  with  certainty  that 
he  has  not  heard  us.    Prayer  is  the  first  Christian 


10  PROMISE    OF    THE 

act  of  the  child,  and  the  saint's  last  exercise  of 
faith  and  love.  Prayer  is  the  first  step  in  conver- 
sion, for  it  is  a  moving  of  the  soul  toward  God 
when  it  discovers  in  him  its  only  safety  and 
help.  The  Christian  is  often  in  the  attitude 
of  prayer,  but  the  minutes  thus  passed  give 
small  account  of  his  praying  life.  His  thoughts 
are  of  God  in  observation  of  his  ways,  in  acknow- 
ledgment of  his  benefits,  in  desires  for  greater 
nearness  to  him  and  for  the  extension  of  his  rule; 
and  this  communion  with  God,  though  not  always 
in  the  form,  is  the  essence,  the  spirit,  of  prayer. 
That  is  a  low  view  of  prayer  which  restricts  it  to 
the  morning  and  evening  exercise,  the  reverential 
posture,  and  the  setting  forth  of  the  more  pressing 
necessities  of  the  body  and  soul.  Perhaps  we  do 
not  make  too  bold  a  statement  when  we  say  that 
the  Christian  lives  never  any  other  life  than  that  of 
prayer.     It  is  with  him  an  o.hvays  hearing  about 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  11 

in  the  hody  the  dying  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  the 
blessed  working  is  that  in  that  bodj'  the  life  also 
of  Jesus  is  made  manifest.  '•  My  presence  shall  go 
with  thee,  and  I  will  give  thee  rest,"  is  the  promise 
that  the  Christian  proves,  and  in  his  spiritual  pro- 
gress that  presence  becomes  the  only  good  that 
he  craves  without  qualification.  That  presence 
enlightens,  comforts,  sanctifies  him ;  and  what, 
except  its  ever  fuller  indwelling,  is  there  left  for 
him  to  obtain  or  desire?  ''^Absence  from  the 
iwesence  of  God  r — exclaimed  a  dying  Christian  : — 
"that  is  the  greatest  evil  of  the  universe!  that 
makes  the  misery  of  hell !"  No  less  does  absence 
from  God  constitute  the  misery  of  earth.  It  is  the 
single  condition  which  includes  all  other  suffering 
and  sin. 

In  the  account  of  the  parents  of  Samson  given 
in  the  thirteenth  chapter  of  Judges,  we  find 
several  thoughts  which  have  become  familiar  to 


12  PROMISE   OF    THE 

the  Christian  inquirer,  but  to  whicli  the  mode  of 
statement  here  employed  seems  to  communicate  a 
special  force.  Taken  together,  they  afford  both  val- 
uable suggestions  in  relation  to  prayer  and  a  body 
of  instruction  with  regard  to  the  an-m'cr  to  prayer, 
/.  e.,  the  dealings  of  God  with  his  people,  and  the 
fulfilment  of  that  portion  of  the  two-fold  promise 
of  godliness  which  refers  to  the  life  that  now  is. 
These  thoughts  put  in  the  form  of  propositions, 
are  : — 

Prayer  for  spiritual  instruction  and  direction  has 
prevailing  poiver : 

Scripture  gives  encouragement  to  pray  with  refer- 
ence to  the  small  interests  of  life,  or  such  as  are  often 
considered  unsuitable  subjects  of  jJetition  : 

God's  past  dealings  are  a  ground  of  consolation 
and  confident  expectation. 

Let  us  follow  for  a  time  the  line  of  meditation 
which  is  thus  pointed  out. 


LIFE   THAT    NOW    IS.  13 

PRAYER  FOR  SPIRITUAL  INSTRUCTION  AND  DIRECTION 
HAS  PREVAILING  POWER. 

In  that  part  of  the  book  of  Judges  which 
gives  the  life  of  Samson,  we  read  that  it  was  com- 
municated to  Manoah,  an  Israelite,  that  he  would 
be  the  father  of  a  son  dedicate  to  God  unto  the 
day  of  his  death.  The  first  recorded  act  of  Manoah 
was  to  entreat  the  Lord  for  a  fuller  manifestation 
of  his  purpose  and  for  minute  direction  with  regard 
to  the  new  obligations  : — "  0  my  Lord,  let  the  man 
of  God  which  thou  didst  send  come  again  unto  us, 
and  teach  us  what  we  shall  do  unto  the  child  that 
shall  be  born."  To  this  petition,  which  was  in  ac- 
cordance with  his  will  and  prompted  by  the  desire 
to  establish  his  designs,  God  "  hearkened,"  and 
sent  again  his  angel  to  repeat  and  confirm  the 
previous  announcement. 

It  appears  from  this  account,  as  from  numer- 


14  PROMISE    OF    THE 

ous  portions  of  Scripture,  that  if  .1  confident 
hope  may  be  entertained  of  the  acceptance  of 
prayer,  it  is  when  the  spiritual  necessity  has  been 
proposed  rather  than  the  natural,  the  fulfilment  of 
God's  plans  and  the  spread  of  his  kingdom,  rather 
than  the  gratification  of  earthly  desires.  The 
Christian,  it  is  true,  has  ample  warrant  to  seek  the 
supply  of  his  bodily  needs.  "  Give  us  this  day 
our  daily  bread,"  is  divine  sanction  for  frequent 
requests  in  reference  to  the  requirements  of  the 
present  condition.  "  Your  Father  knoweth  that 
ye  have  need  of  these  things,"  is  intimation  of  the 
disposition  of  a  just  as  well  as  merciful  Being  to 
regard  the  wants  of  which  he  is  fully  cognizant. 
Largely,  indeed,  does  he  bestow  the  treasures  of 
his  bounty  without  entreaty  and  without  acknow- 
ledgment. On  a  world  of  ignorant,  careless,  and 
thankless  men  he  causes  his  sun  to  shine  and  his 
rain  to  descend.     Air,  light,  and  water,  the  earth 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  15 

bringing  forth  grass,  and  herb,  and  fruit  tree,  the 
h'ohts  in  the  firmament  of  the  heaven  which  are 
for  signs,  and  for  seasons,  and  for  days,  and  years, 
the  moving  creature  that  hath  hfe,  and  the  fowl 
that  fly  above  the  earth,  are  his  provision  alike 
for  the  evil  and  the  good.  As  wonderful  are  the 
mechanism  and  beauty  of  the  frame  which  con- 
tains the  fallen  soul  unrecovered  by  the  great  sal- 
vation, as  of  that  which  contains  the  soul  renewed 
in  the  image  of  God  and  destined  to  glorify  and 
enjoy  him  forever.  Many  blessings,  in  addition 
to  the  more  ordinary,  are  obtained  without  special 
petition.  But  to  a  degree  the  gift  is  contingent, 
or,  at  least,  is  not  to  be  expected  or  claimed  apart 
from  a  mentioned  condition  : — ''  all  these  things 
shall  be  added  unto  you."  But  how  added?  What 
must  precede  this  provision  of  food  and  drink,  this 
exemption  from  anxiety  as  to  the  body  ?  "  Seek 
ye  the  kingdom  of  God."     Ascertain  your  rela- 


16  TROMISE    OF    THE 

tions  to  your  Maker,  and  form  on  them  your 
theory  of  life  and  of  eternity.  The  body  is  an 
excellent  creation,  and  more  excellent  in  that  it 
is  temporarily  conjoined  to  the  soul.  Commit  it 
as  to  its  essential  and  accidental  necessities  to  the 
care  of  its  Creator.  It  is  the  less  which  is  included 
in  the  greater,  and  while  there  is  a  promise  to  the 
less,  to  the  greater  it  is  repeated,  explicit,  and 
abundant.  But  it  is  conveyed  in  covenant  only. 
Ask,  is  the  stipulation;  it  shall  be  (/tven,  is  the  satis- 
faction. Jf  ?/e  abide  in  vie  and  my  ivords  abide  in  you, 
is  the  condition ;  ye  shall  ask  tvhat  ye  will,  and  it 
shall  be  done  unto  yoiu  is  the  ratification.  So  the 
Apostle  Paul,  speaking  concerning  spiritual  gifts, 
exhorts  to  covet  them  earnestly,  constraining  the 
inference  that  they  may  be  obtained. 

Christian,  do  you  need  additional  warrant  or 
encouragement  to  apply  confidently  for  spiritual 
blessings  ?     Perhaps  you  are  at  the  beginning  of 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  17 

your  course  and  scarcely  cnll  yourself  a  Christian. 
You  are  disposed  to  inquire  into  a  subject  in  rela- 
tion to  which  you  have  been  hitherto  ignorant,  and, 
for  the  most  part,  indifferent.  You  have  been  in- 
duced to  examine  the  gospel  system  of  truth  and 
to  test  its  application  to  yourself  by  some  half  ac- 
knowledged fear  of  the  future — that  future  of  cer- 
tain sorrow,  sickness,  death,  and  eternity ;  by  the 
opinions  or  example  of  your  dearest  friend  ;  by  the 
conviction  that  Christianity  is  the  best  safeguard 
of  morals  and  enforcer  of  law,  and  therefore  must 
have  an  inherent  worth ;  by  a  severe  affliction  or 
an  unexpected  blessing — for  fall  often  by  the  latter 
does  God  bring  to  him  his  straying  and  heedless 
children.  Oh  that  we  could  understand  all  mys- 
teries of  your  temperament  and  condition,  all  know- 
ledge that  could  remove  the  hinderance  and  give 
impulse  to  your  progress,  and  that,  with  the  tongue 
of  an  angel  and  the  heart  of  all-believing,  all-hoping 


18  PROMISE    OF    THE 

love,  we  could  persuade  you  to  begin  at  once  the 
practice  of  prayer  and  the  careful  study  of  God's 
■word  !  Some  defer  the  adoption  of  such  a  plan  of 
life  until  they  have  looked  farther  into  the  matter, 
and  have  come  to  a  decision  as  to  the  reasonable- 
ness of  the  attitude  of  submission  and  docility. 
We  do  not  undervalue  in  any  degree  the  body  of 
evidence  which  upholds  our  faith,  nor  Avould  we 
urge  you  to  cease  from  investigation  of  any  kind 
that  may  diminish  your  perplexity  and  confirm 
your  Avavering  purpose.  But  we  would  have  you 
prosecute  it  by  divine  rather  than  human  guid- 
ance. Do  not  cavil  at  this  view  nor  urge  that  it 
is  an  assuming  of  the  question.  "  There  is  logic," 
said  a  sceptic  to  us,  "  in  every  system  but  the  Chris- 
tian ;"  and  perhaps  he  was  right,  judging  by  his 
own  narrow  theory  which  views  logic  as  the  art 
rather  than,  in  its  most  extensive  application,  the 
science  of  reasoning.     It  is  not  always  by  syllo- 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  19 

gistic  process  that  we  arrive  at  the  conclusion  of 
a  Christian  argument;  and  synthetic  and  analytic 
methods,  though  working  out  the  most  perfect  de- 
duction, are  in  the  Christian  system  applied,  com- 
l>ined,  and  interchanged,  after  a  fashion  anomalous 
in  human  philosophy.  To  know  your  Creator  and 
his  requirements,  is  your  strongest  obligation. 
Enter  at  once  on  the  course  of  life  to  which  it 
confines  you.  Perform  your  obvious  and  nearest 
duties,  and  trust  God  for  help  as  to  the  more  diffi- 
cult. It  was  perhaps  at  this  point  that  Jehosh- 
aphat,  king  of  Judah,  stood,  when  Jehu  concluded 
his  reproof  of  him  with  this  commendation :  "Never- 
theless, there  are  good  things  found  in  thee  in  that 
thou  hast  taken  away  the  groves  out  of  the  land, 
and  liast  prepared  thine  heart  to  seek  Godr  There 
seems  scarcely  a  distinction  between  preparing 
to  seek  God  and  seeking  him,  yet  the  phrase  of 
Jehu  had  its   meaning,  and   conveys   a  most  in- 


20  PROMISE    OF    THE 

structive  truth.  There  is  a  strong  analogy  between 
the  development  of  Christian  and  that  of  fdial 
obedience  and  love.  The  child,  imperfect  in  per- 
ception and  comprehension,  cannot  with  his  whole 
intelligent  nature  assent  and  consent  to  parental 
principles  and  laws.  But  when  convinced  of  the 
wisdom  and  goodness  of  the  parent,  he  can  render 
complete  submission  to  the  parent's  will  in  what- 
ever manner  it  may  be  made  known.  Whensoever 
or  howsoever  the  new  birth  occurs,  the  Christian 
must  pass  through  a  period  of  spiritual  in^incy ;  and 
God,  who  knoweth  our  frame,  requires  of  the  babe 
in  Christ  but  to  rest  helplessly  on  him — to  lean,  and 
love,  and  wait,  until  the  hands  are  strong  to  do  his 
work,  and  the  feet  swift  to  run  in  the  Avay  of  his 
commandments.  A  certain  effort  is  to  be  put 
forth,  even  "as  a  child  that  is  weaned  of  his 
mother "  hehaves  and  quiets  itself  But  in  the 
"  great  matters,"  the  "  things  too  high,"  not  only 


LIFE    THAT    NOW   IS.  21 

of  Divine  counsel  but  of  Christian  experience,  the 
new  disciple  is  not  expected  to  exercise  himself. 
There  is  a  point  at  which  the  analogy  fails  between 
natural  and  Christian  development.  Infancy  in 
the  one  case  passes  altogether  and  gives  place  to 
the  self-reliance  and  independence  of  manhood ;  in 
the  other,  it  passes  only  as  to  its  absolute  ignor- 
ance and  feebleness.  Its  privileges  of  support 
and  protection  remain.  Its  innocence,  its  submis- 
siveness,  its  love,  increase  with  increasing  know- 
ledge and  strength.  Show  to  us  the  man  most 
fiiithful  in  work  and  most  holy  in  person,  and  in 
him  we  will  show  you  the  man  most  humble  and 
docile,  most  distrustful  of  self  and  dependent  on 
God.  •'  I  have  never  been  able  in  my  prayer, " 
said  one  known  and  praised  in  the  church,  "  to  get 
much  beyond,  'God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner!'" 
If  thus,  Christian,  you  prepare  your  heart  to 
seek  God,  alread}^  you  have  entered  on  his  service. 


22  PROMISE    OF    THE 

While  you  are  calling,  he  answers ;  while  you  are 
seeking,  he  is  found  of  you.  Do  not  perplex  your- 
self as  to  the  quality  or  quantity  of  your  prayer. 
Be  not  discouraged  if  there  are  dark  sayings  and 
hard  questions  in  the  Holy  Scriptures.  The  matter 
lies  in  a  nutshell.  You  know  that  you  have  sinned. 
You  perceive  that  with  a  tendency  to  what  is 
good  —  now  and  then  a  gleam  of  light,  there  is 
a  more  prevailing  tendency  to  evil,  and  a  settled 
darkness  upon  your  spiritual  understanding.  That 
which  your  consciousness  and  experience  declare, 
you  find  confirmed  in  the  history  of  mankind.  In 
all  ages  and  nations,  men  have  been  characterized 
by  the  same  evil  passions  and  purposes.  It  is  ever 
the  same  play  with  different  performers.  Confess 
then  to  God,  the  Father  of  your  body  and  spirit,  that 
you  have  sinned.  Ask  for  the  mercy  which  you  need. 
Examine  your  relations  to  the  family  and  to  the 
world.    If  you  indulge  in  any  open  sin,  refrain  from 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  Zo 

it.  If  you  omit  any  evident  duty,  set  yourself  to 
its  performance.  Look  into  the  Bible  to  find  the 
rule  of  your  life  and  your  hope  of  heaven.  Per- 
seA^erc  in  this  course,  and  in  time  you  will  say 
with  all  who  have  made  this  venture — if  we  may 
use  the  distrustful  word — of  their  temporal  and 
spiritual  interests,  "  God  is  the  Lord  which  hath 
shewed  us  light :"  "  Thou,  Lord,  hast  made  me 
glad  through  thy  work  :"  ''  Return  unto  thy  rest, 
0  my  soul;  for  the  Lord  hath  dealt  bountifully 
with  thee." 

You  may  be  one  of  those  who  bear  the  Chris- 
tian name,  but  who  seem  never  to  attain  to  Chris- 
tian liberty  and  peace.  William  Jay  describes 
you  as  "  always  in  darkness  and  alarms,  among 
thorns  and  briers,  always  murmuring  and  com- 
plaining, having  religion  enough  to  make  you 
miserable,  but  not  enough  to  make  you  happy." 
From  your  earliest  Christian  consciousness  some 


24  PROMISE    OF    THE 

Aveakness  or  defect  has  hindered  your  spiritual 
growth,  and  seems  to  you  irremediable  because  it 
is  inherited  or  dependent  on  physical  organization. 
Some  habit  clings  as  closely  as  the  shirt  of  Nessus 
adhered  to  the  fabled  hero,  and  almost  as  hurtfully 
to  your  moral  being.  Of  a  fearful  and  desponding 
temperament,  you  combat  with  spiritual  foes  largely 
at  a  disadvantage.  You  are  ever  forming  resolu- 
tions and  lamenting  that  you  have  broken  them. 
Your  conscience  is  sensitive,  even  scrupulous,  and 
3^ou  are,  as  James  Alexander  expresses  it,  'panic- 
strucJc  in  view  of  the  standard  which  it  sets  for 
you.  You  bring  your  tithes  and  your  offerings, 
and  neglect  not  weightier  matters  of  the  law.  But 
it  all  seems  to  little  purpose.  You  are  ready  to 
say,  It  is  vain  to  serve  God :  and  what  profit  is  it 
that  I  have  kept  his  ordinance,  and  that  I  have 
walked  mournfully  before  the  Lord  of  hosts  ?  The 
Christian  life  is  to  vou  a  dreary  and  rugged  road 


LIFE    THAT   NOW    IS.  25 

instead  of  a  way  of  pleasantness  and  a  path  of 
peace.  It  is  ever  self  and  law  to  which  you  look. 
There  is  in  your  case  no  intelligent,  voluntary  sub- 
mission to  gospel  injunction,  no  obedience  of  loA^e; 
or,  rather,  there  is  none  of  that  love  which  in  its 
eager  desire  of  service  outstrips  obedience,  and  in 
its  longing  to  attain  unto  God  bethinks  itself  little 
of  waymarks  and  boundaries,  and  counts  as  nothing 
the  weariness  and  dangers  of  the  course. 

Or,  you  are  troubled  with  theoretical  doubts 
which  your  investigation  so  fjir  has  neither  dis- 
posed of,  nor  confirmed  into  scepticism.  Dimly 
perceiving  the  light  of  Revelation,  you  stumble 
and  stagger  in  the  path  of  gospel  precept,  and  while 
you  do  not  dare,  do  not  desire  indeed  to  cast  aside 
Christian  obligation,  there  is  a  writhing  of  your 
whole  nature  under  its  bonds.  You  evince  an  in- 
creasing disposition  to  question  and  dispute,  to  re- 
nounce long-received  principles  and  remove  the 
3 


26  PROMISE    OF    THE 

ancient  landmarks,  to  propose  private  interpret- 
ations— in  a  word,  to  loan  to  your  own  understand- 
ing, and  make  a  creed  for  yourself  instead  of  finding 
it  in  the  word  of  God.  Laudably  zealous  in  strip- 
ping off  the  last  rag  of  superstition,  you  sometimes 
make  sad  inroad  into  the  decent  garment  of  faith. 
But  amidst  all  this  unbelief,  pride,  impatience,  and 
self-will,  you  are  conscious  of  a  great  want,  a  real 
perplexity,  an  honest  desire  to  get  wisdom — "the 
principal  thing,"  yea,  of  a  cry  of  your  whole  soul 
after  knowledge,  and  a  lifting  up  of  your  voice 
for  understanding,  a  searching  for  her  as  for  hid 
treasures. 

With  tolerably  clear  views  of  truth  and  abil- 
ity to  apply  it  satisfactorily,  you  are  unsteady  and 
light  minded,  anxious  only  about  your  final  safety, 
not  about  your  Christian  faithfulness  and  progress. 
You  have  never  allowed  your  conviction  to  become 
a  habit  of  thought,  and  to  affect  and  consecrate 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  27 

both  your  spiritual  and  your  physical  being. 
Your  religion  is  one  of  days,  and  ordinances,  and 
forms.  It  is  that  of  early  instruction,  undeveloped 
by  individual  processes  and  a  continual  abiding 
under  the  life-giving  ray  and  ever-refreshing  dew 
of  gospel  precept.  It  is  the  religion  of  those  around 
you — their  ordinary  expression  and  average  at- 
tainment. You  do  not  altogether  neglect  your 
Bible  nor  restrain  prayer.  But  you  read  with 
little  attention  and  less  application,  then  put  aside 
the  book  and  the  teaching  along  with  it.  You 
pray  with  an  unprepared  mind,  and  repeat  by 
rote,  if  not  always  the  words,  the  thoughts  of 
your  petition.  Entreaty  for  the  continuation  of 
your  life  and  that  of  your  friends,  for  the  supply 
of  your  daily  wants,  for  the  forgiveness  of  your 
sins,  without  special  acknowledgment  or  contrition, 
and  for  safe  conduct  to  heaven,  constitutes  the 
whole  of  your  communion  with  your  God.     Day 


28  PROMISE    OF    THE 

by  day  you  address  the  greatest  Being  in  the  uni- 
verse— your  Parent,  your  Ruler,  your  Judge,  and 
are  never  quickened  into  more  earnest  thought  or 
deeper  emotion.  Partly  from  a  sense  of  duty, 
partly  from  natural  kindliness,  you  give  freely  of 
your  money,  and  perhaps  of  your  time  and  efforts, 
to  relieve  the  necessities  of  your  felloAv-men.  You 
recognize  fully  the  ethics  of  Christianity,  and  sub- 
mit wilhngly  to  many  of  its  restraints.  You  may 
even  be  rigid  in  your  construction  of  certain  rules 
of  practice  which  are  variously  interpreted  in  all 
Christian  communities,  and  which  would  seem 
moveable — not  non-essential,  but  contingent  as  to 
their  precise  character,  and  applicable  without 
modification  only  to  the  motive  and  spirit  of  the 
acts  to  which  they  refer.  Yet,  very  apparently  to 
others  and  consciously  to  yourself,  you  lack  some- 
thing. Growth  in  grace ;  fellowship  with  the 
Father,  and  with  his  Son  Jesus  Christ;  boldness  and 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  29 

access  with  confidence  by  the  faith  of  him;  strength- 
ening with  might  by  his  Spirit  in  the  inner  man ; 
the  hope  as  an  anchor  of  the  sonl  both  sure  and 
steadfast,  the  peace  which  passeth  all  understand- 
ing:— these  and  like  precious  and  fiiithful  descrip- 
tions of  Christian  privilege  and  attainment  you 
find  abundantly  supplied  in  Scripture,  and  often  as 
evidence  of  discipleship,  but  to  you  they  are  things 
hard  to  be  understood,  and  that  hitherto  have 
furmed  no  part  of  your  experience.  In  the  Christian 
course  you  find  yourself  so  slowly  brought  for- 
ward that  you  sometimes  ask,  with  most  reason- 
able apprehension,  How^  am  1  to  reach  heaven  at 
last? 

Your  want  is  not  prominently  personal.  You 
earnestly  desire  the  conversion  of  others,  and  by 
this  often  unsatisfied  longing  you  are  tempted  to 
distrust  and  despondency,  perhaps  even  to  mur- 
muring and  rebellion.     You  are  a  minister  of  the 

3* 


30  PROMISE    OF    THE 

gospel,  and  have  spoken  the  word  faithfully  to 
your  people — that  Avord  which  is  like  a  hammer 
that  breaketh  the  rock  in  pieces.  You  have  taught 
them  not  only  by  preaching,  but  by  incessant 
effort  of  self  consecration,  of  individual  appeal, 
of  sympathy  with  their  trouble,  of  patience 
with  their  ignorance  and  slowness  to  believe,  and 
of  meekness  under  their  injurious  language  or  con- 
duct.    In  all  these  things  your  heart  condemns 

you  not,  but  they  have  not  hearkened  to  receive 
instruction.  If  there  is  any  result  of  your  toil,  it 
is  so  imperfect  or  unapparent,  so  little  in  propor- 
tion to  your  striving  and  desire,  that  you  are  ready 
to  conclude  that  the  Lord  restrains  you  in  this 
way  of  usefulness,  and  will  no  longer  be  entreated 
of  you  as  to  the  matter.  But  you  cannot  forbear. 
His  word  is  unto  you  the  joy  and  rejoicing  of 
your  heart :  it  is  as  a  burning  fire  shut  up  in  your 
bones,  and  with  the  prophet  you  must  still  cry. 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  31 

'•  0  Lord  God,  cease,  I  beseech  thee :  by  -whom 
shall  Jacob  arise  ?  for  he  is  small."  Or,  as  a 
private  Christian,  your  present  solicitude  is  for 
the  spiritual  welfare  of  some  individual.  His 
turn  of  mind,  his  course  of  life  are  wholly  averse 
from  gospel  doctrine.  No  carefid,  discrimina- 
ting selection  of  modes  to  approach  him,  no  ten- 
derness, watchfulness,  or  forbearing,  has  as  yet 
seemed  to  produce  any  effect.  He  remains  un- 
convinced by  your  reasoning,  untouched  by  your 
silence  and  gentleness,  unmoved  by  your  fervent 
appeal  or  upright  example.  Your  faith  staggers, 
and  dares  not  the  toilsome  path  of  hoping,  perse- 
vering, yet  deferred  petition.  Has  God  forgotten 
to  be  gracious  ?  Is  this  poor  soul,  so  precious  to 
you,  the  life  of  your  life  perhaps,  of  no  account 
in  the  Divine  calculation  ? 

We  might  multiply  indefinitely  cases  of  spiritual 
want.   What  should  we  do  but  declare  that  every- 


32  PROMISE    OF    THE 

Avliere  there  is  conscious  need  with  perception,  more 
or  less  perfect,  of  possible  supply.    Suffering  friend, 
in  the  instances  adduced,  you   crave,  either  for 
yourself  or  others,  a  benefit  which  is  closely  con- 
nected with  the  glory  of  God  and  the  spread  of 
his  dominion.    You  discern  in  yourself,  along  with 
sinfulness  and  helplessness,  a  desire  to  increase  in 
the  knowledge  of  God  and  to  refer  all  your  inter- 
ests to  his  care  and  control.     It  is  the  frame  of 
mind  which  he  approves  and  which  his  w^ord  and 
providence  are   designed  to  produce.     Large  as 
may  be  your  request,  small  the  present  grace,  and 
beyond  all  seeming  possibility  the  desired  attain- 
ment, your  hope  should  not  fail,  seeing  that  it  is 
for  a  good  concerning  which  God  Avill  be  inquired 
of  and  which  he  has  promised  freely  to  impart, 
though  he  make  not  known  the  counsel  of  his  will 
in  reference  to  you.     In  nothing  is  the  promise 
more  full  than  with  regard  to  spiritual  blessings. 


LIFE   THAT   NOW   IS.  33 

In  proportion  to  your  reliance  on  God,  to  the  looking 
unto  Jcsns,  which,  some  one  remarks,  might  be  the 
motto  for  every  hour,  to  your  petition  for  wisdom 
and  succor  against  temptation,  and  for  a  fuller  inhab- 
iting of  the  Spirit,  will  be  your  attainment  in 
these  and  depending  gifts  and  graces.  Zeal,  ac- 
tivity, entireness  of  consecration,  must  keep  pace 
with  progress  in  humility  and  love  to  God,  must 
increase  with  increasing  perception  of  the  debt  we 
owe  to  him,  and  with  recognition  of  his  claim  to  our 
service.  There  is  no  remedy  for  faint-heartedness 
like  nearness  to  God  and  the  ai^plication  to  him 
which  is  fervent  from  a  sense  of  your  want,  which 
is  hopeful,  not  so  much  from  the  strength  of  your 
desire  as  from  conviction  of  his  iovingkindness  and 
from  dependence  on  his  promise.  You  will  take 
care  not  to  pervert  this  rising  of  faith  and  trust  by 
presuming  that  all  things  will  work  for  good  to  you 
according  to  your  estimate  and  desire   of  good. 


PROMISE    OF    THE 


Havino;  confidence  in  both  the  rinrhteousness  and 
the  mercy  of  God's  dealings,  you  will  endeavor 
that  this  confidence  be  as  strong  in  trouble  as 
in   deliverance    and    prosperity.     You  will  keep 
before  you  that  it  is  your  part  to  follow,  not,  by 
your  own  interpretation,  to  lead  Providence  in  self- 
proposed    arrangements    and    strong    desires,   in 
rashly  appropriating  precedents  and  pronouncing 
as    to  the   preservation    of  your   life    and    your 
exemption  from   evil.     Verily,  there  is  in  Hol}^ 
Writ  large  promise  to  the  righteous  of  these  very 
benefits   and  a  record   of  their  full  communica- 
tion.    But  do  Ave  therefore   intrude   into  God's 
counsel  or  limit  his  operation  ?     Both  sacred  and 
profane  history  testify  that  he  has  showed  great 
and  sore  troubles  unto  them  that  trusted  in  him 
and  Avalked   in  the  Avay  of  his   commandments. 
They  have  gone  mourning  all  their  days,  and  been 
grievously  afflicted  and   tormented.     They  have 
been    sick   and   in    prison,   hungry,   thirsty,   and 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  35 

naked.  They  have  wandered  on  the  foee  of  the 
earth,  been  reviled  and  contemned,  yea,  stoned, 
torn  asunder,  and  burned.  Like  theirs,  your  dis- 
cipline and  course  of  preparation  to  the  end  of  your 
earthly  existence  may  be  through  kindling  flames 
and  deep  waters  of  trial.  But  what  of  that,  if  the 
ages  of  eternity  as  they  pass  behold  you  safe  and 
at  peace  in  God's  blissful  and  glorious  presence  ?  , 
Then,  give  thanks  always  for  all  things  unto 
God ;— 

"Not  thankful  when  it  pleaseth  me  ; 

But  eaeii  a  heart  whose  pulse  may  be  t//;6<^-/ 

Thy  praise : — 

and  how  needful  as  well  as  reasonable  that  you 
should  in  every  thing  give  thanks,  for  this  is  f/ic 
will  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus  concerning  you!  Rejoice 
in  the  Lord  alway :  and  again  I  say,  rejoice ; — 
••  the  only  command,"  we  heard  one  say,  "  which 
I  find  with  such  immediate  repetition."  How 
plain  the  duty,  how  full  the  sanction,  how  abund- 


36  PROMISE    OF    THE 

ant  the  cause  of  joy  in  the  Lord  !  By  this  cheerful 
submission  to  his  appointment,  this  continuing  in- 
stant in  prayer,  is  secured  a  far  more  important 
good  than  the  object  of  your  desire — the  highest 
attainment  perhaps  that  a  Christian  can  propose 
in  his  discipleship.  It  is  the  habit  of  glorifying 
God, — the  employment  of  heaven  begun  on  earth; 
the  magnifying  of  his  wisdom  and  love  above  our 
reasonings  and  hopes,  the  accepting  of  him  practic- 
ally as  Ruler  and  Judge ;  and  the  viewing  of  self 
as  the  creature  of  his  love,  the  reciijient  of  his 
promise,  and  the  object  of  his  faithfulness.  Put 
then  far  from  you  that  distrust  and  apprehension 
which  eat  into  your  peace  and  sap  the  foundation 
of  your  spiritual  prosperity.  How  can  you  wander 
if  you  keep  close  to  God  ?  How  can  you  exalt 
yourself  if  you  are  ever  at  his  footstool?  How 
can  you  be  alone  if  his  presence  go  Avith  you? 
How  can  you  fall  in  following  hard  after  him  if 
his  right  hand  uphold  you  ? 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  37 


SCRIPTURE  GIVES  ENCOURAGEMENT  TO  PRAY  WITH  REFER- 
ENCE TO  THE  SMALL  INTERESTS  OF  LIFE,  OR  SUCH  AS 
ARE  OFTEN  CONSIDERED  UNSUITABLE  SUBJECTS  OF  PETI- 
TION. 

The  man  of  God,  for  whose  second  appearance 
Manoah  entreated  the  Lord,  having  come  again 
when  seemingly  he  was  not  expected,  for  "  the 
woman  sat  in  the  field,  and  Manoah  her  husband 
was  not  with  her,"  Manoah  proceeds  to  ask  how 
the  parents  shall  perform  their  part  in  accomplish- 
ing the  proposed  consecration  of  their  son  : — "  How 
shall  we  order  the  child,  and  what  shall  we  do  nnto 
him  ?"  Confident  he  must  have  been,  if  we  may 
judge  from  his  prayer,  from  his  prompt  following  of 
his  wife  into  the  presence  of  the  stranger,  from  the 
Amen,  "  Now  let  thy  Avords  come  to  pass,"  which 
prefaces  the  next  inquiry,  that  a  wonderful  event 

was  to  occur,  though  as  yet  he  knew  not  that  it  was 
4 


38  PROMISE    OF    THE 

signified  by  a  heavenly  visitant.  But  with  a  zeal 
most  worthy  of  notice  to  establish  the  counsel 
of  God,  although  assured  that  it  could  stand 
without  his  aid,  he  seeks  the  requisite  instruc- 
tion. The  training  of  a  child  who  was  to  be 
a  Nazarite  unto  God  and  to  commence  the 
work  of  delivering  Israel  out  of  the  hands  of  the 
Philistines,  was  likely  to  differ  from  the  ordinary 
method  of  Jewish  education.  The  angel  adds 
nothing  to  directions  already  furnished  to  the  wife, 
and  adapted  to  enable  her  to  set  forward  even 
before  his  birth  the  w^ork  of  her  child's  separation 
to  a  special  service.  We  may  fairly  derive  a  les- 
son from  this  portion  of  the  account.  The  training 
of  children  begins  with  the  training  of  parents.  If 
parents  obtain  a  personal  fitness  and  an  accurate 
spiritual  instruction,  the  work  of  education  will 
prosper.  The  directions  here  regard  the  mother 
rather  than  the  child  ;  indeed  all  concerninc;  him 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  39 

is  more  in  the  form  of  prophecy  than  of  specific 
command,  yet  "  the  chihl  grew  and  the  Lord  bles- 
sed him."  Manoah,  grateful  for  the  announcement, 
asks  the  name  of  the  messenger  that  when  his 
sayings  come  to  pass  the  parents  may  do  him 
honor,  or  acknowledge  his  faithful  utterance  of  the 
prediction,  and  recall  their  joy  in  prospect  of  so 
imlooked-for  a  blessing  and  distinction.  It  was  a 
natural  request,  the  first  vent  for  the  full  tide  of 
emotion,  but  the  angel  withheld  the  favor : — "  Why 
askest  thou  thus  after  my  name,  seeing  it  is 
secret  ?"  Did  he  rebuke  an  otherwise  allowable 
curiosity  in  order  to  concentrate  all  Manoah's 
thoughts  in  thankfulness  and  praise  ?  "  So  Ma- 
noah  took  a  kid  with  a  meat  oifering,  and  offered  it 
upon  a  rock  unto  the  Lord."  Thereupon,  the  answer 
to  his  petition,  refused  in  one  form,  is  afforded  in 
another,  and  to  his  fuller  instruction  and  encour- 
agement.    "And  the  angel  did  wonderously ;  and 


40  PROMISE    OF    THE 

Manoali  and  his  wife  looked  on.  For  it  came  to 
pass,  when  the  flame  went  up  toward  heaven  from 
off  the  altar,  that  the  angel  of  the  Lord  ascended 
in  the  flame  of  the  altar.  And  Manoah  and  his 
wife  looked  on  it  and  fell  on  their  faces  to  the 
ground.  But  the  angel  of  the  Lord  did  no  more 
appear  to  Manoah  and  to  his  wife.  Then  3Ianoah 
Jcnetv  ihaf  he  tvas  an  angel  of  the  Loniy  The  name 
which  he  had  asked  after  was  ''  secret,"  /.  ^.,  Won- 
derful, incommunicable,  yea,  incomprehensible  by 
human  intelligence ;  and  the  divine  nature  and 
authority  of  the  Angel-Jehovah  were  declared  by 
a  marvellous  w^ork.  Manoah's  conceptions  had  not 
embraced  all  God's  purpose  in  thus  making  him  a 
conscious  and  favored  agent  of  a  merciful  design  to- 
ward the  people  of  Israel.  Truly,  Manoah  had  more 
than  he  could  ask  or  think.  The  Lord  prevented 
him  with  his  goodness,  and  granted  him,  if  not  his 
petition,  far  more  than  his  desire.     He  needed  not 


LIFE    THAT    NOAV    IS.  41 

to  tany  till  the  fulfilment  of  the  prediction  to  do 
honor  to  the  messenger,  for  already  the  sign  of 
the  Lord  Avas  added  imto  his  ^vord. 

It  has  before  been  remarked  that  though  the 
Scripture  is  most  abundant  in  the  promise  of 
spiritual  blessings,  it  supplies  ample  assurance 
concerning  those  of  a  "purely  earthly  character. 
Miracles,  as  evidence  of  divine  authority,  were 
necessarily  for  the  most  part  manifest  to  the  sen- 
ses. There  was  as  great  an  exercise  of  power  in 
forgiving  sins,  as  in  causing  the  impotent  man  to 
rise,  take  up  his  bed,  and  walk  ;  but  the  latter  was 
a  visible  operation,  and  clearly  discernible  in  its 
progress  and  results.  Respecting  miracles,  it  is 
much  to  our  purpose  to  note  that  they  were  per- 
formed not  only  on  momentous  occasions,  but  also 
in  reference  to  needs  and  perplexities  which  seem- 
ingly were  of  much  too  small  account  to  become  sub- 
jects of  petition  to  God.     Not  only  did  the  sun 

4* 


42  PROMISE    OF    THE 

stand  still  and  the  moon  stay  nntil  the  people  of 
Israel  had  avenged  themselves  upon  their  enemies; 
not  only  did  the  waters  of  Jordan  divide  to  let 
Israel  pass  over  dryshod  ;  not  only  did  the  walls 
of  the  enemy  fjill  at  the  sound  of  trumpets,  and  at 
the  bowing  with  all  his  might  of  a  man ;  not  only 
did  darkness  cover  the  earth,  rocks  rend,  and 
graves  open,  to  attest  the  finished  work  of  the  Re- 
deemer ;  not  only  was  sight  restored  to  the  eyes, 
soundness  to  the  limbs,  reason  to  the  mind  and 
life  to  the  dead ;  but  iron  was  made  to  swim,  that 
what  was  borrowed  might  ])e  returned  to  the 
owner;  water  was  made  wine  for  the  more  bounti- 
ful entertainment  of  festive  guests  ;  and  a  piece  of 
money  was  found  in  a  fish's  mouth  that  the  poor 
fisherman's  tax  might  be  paid,  and  tribute  rendered 
to  whom  it  was  due. 

Let  us  not  forego  our  privilege  and   deny  our- 
selves the  benefit  of  precedent  thus  divinely  af- 


LIFE   THAT    NOW    IS.  43 

forded  and  preserved  on  record  ibr  our  instruction. 
The  mistake  is  not  that  we  make  known  too  many, 
but  too  few,  of  our  requests  unto  God.  He  know- 
etli  our  frame,  and  will  he  not  admit  the  represen- 
tations and  entreaties  that  arise  out  of  a  poverty 
and  helplessness  like  ours  ?  In  a  condition  where 
so  many  diverse  agencies  are  at  work,  and  not  in 
concert  but  in  permanent  antagonism,  where  the 
most  sustained  efforts  of  our  higher  intellectual 
nature  are  incompetent  to  elevate  us  in  the  scale 
of  being,  or  to  secure  to  us  the  means  of  existence 
or  happiness,  how  numerous  and  pressing  are  our 
necessities  !  How  little  we  apprehend  them,  how 
mistaken  is  our  action  in  reference  to  them  !  The 
good  which  would  be  our  individual  good,  which 
would  best  develope  and  cultivate  our  nature  and 
form  for  us  the  most  effective  method  of  working' 
out  our  mental  and  spiritual  welfare, — that  good  we 
pass  by  and  take  in  its  stead  some  nominal,  self- 


44  PROMISE    OF    THE 

styled  good  which  glitters  in  a  tinsel  gaudiness. 
Even  if  we  know  to  choose  the  good,  how  feeble 
our  instruments,  how  few  our  opportunities,  how 
indirect  our  progress,  to  attain  to  it.  All  things, 
we  conceive,  hold  a  relation  to  the  mind  of  God 
different  from  that  which  we  have  established.  To 
him  our  e-reat  things  are  even  as  the  small — n,'i\- 
the  small,  even  the  contemptible  in  our  eyes,  may 
have  been  specially  set  by  him  to  operate  as  the 
larger  instrumentality.  We  overlook  too  much 
the  influence  on  ourselves  of  little  things.  We  are 
not  careful  enough  in  our  analysis.  We  dread,  and 
in  a  measure  justly,  the  dwarfing  and  dwindling 
of  our  mental  stature  by  a  continual  stoop  to  ob- 
serve the  phenomena  at  our  feet.  We  dread  that 
the  microscopic  adjustment  will  impair  the  power 
of  wider  survey.  But  it  is  the  lesson  we  must 
l6arn  to  fix  our  sight  long  on  no  single  object,  to 
mark  the  mote  in  the  sunbeam  and  the  bow  in  the 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  45 

cloud,  the  spear  of  grass  by  the  roadside,  and  the 
.star  that  afar  off  in  the  firmament  quivers  in  the 
fulness  of  its  own  light  and  loveliness.  The  nnnd 
fixed  to  one  focus,  moving  only  in  a  groove,  may 
discern  much  and  work  profitably  ;  but  it  can  never 
attain  to  the  clearness  and  activity  of  that  intelli- 
gence which  regards  the  mean  as  well  as  the  mighty, 
which  has  no  limit  but  its  own  sphere,  no  line  that 
will  not  measure  both  the  lofty  and  the  low.  Truth 
is  not  always  in  a  corner  nor  at  the  bottom  of  the 
well,  neither  does  it  soar  away  to  tlie  heavens  and 
for  ever  inhabit  the  mountain  tops.  Pervading  all 
being,  it  now  bears  a  message  from  the  bow^els  of 
the  earth  as  to  things  before  the  flood,  now  reveals 
the  secrets  of  the  skies,  measures  the  distance  of 
the  heavenly  bodies,  computes  their  cycles,  de- 
clares and  accounts  for  the  phenomena  of  the 
future.  Moral  truth  comes  by  special  revelation 
from  God,  is  twin-born  with  all  physical  discovery. 


'IG  PROMISE    OF    THE 

speaks  in  emphatic  tone  from  the  volume  of 
histoiy,  or,  in  still  small  voice  imparts  to  the 
individual  the  lessons  of  his  consciousness  and 
experience.  Thus  we  shall  be  wise  only  as  we 
retain  the  mind  of  the  learner,  and  accept  in- 
struction from  every  offered  source.  It  is  a  vast 
and  rich  store-house  in  which  our  God  has  placed 
us.  To  explore  its  chambers  and  acquire  the  trea- 
sure, is  an  imperative  duty  as  well  as  one  of  the 
highest  enjoyments  of  which  the  human  mind 
is  susceptible.  The  supply  is  inexhaustible.  Gems 
of  purest  ray  lie  scattered  and  unappropriated.  If 
our  wisdom  is  derived  from  objects  so  close  at 
hand  and  apparently  so  valueless  as  to  be  over- 
looked in  our  search  after  what  is  brilliant  and 
elevated,  how  reasonable  that  we  place  a  high 
estimate  upon  our  smaller  interests  and  rid  our- 
selves of  the  fear  of  carrying  them  to  God!  What 
we  need  is  the  humble,  trusting,  docile  spirit,  not 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  4/ 

what  Ave  ileem  the  worthy  argument  or  fitting 
occasion.  See  how  the  heart  deceives  itself!  It 
disclaims  for  self  the  plea  of  merit,  but  transfers  it 
from  self  to  the  occasion.  Multitudes  of  Chris- 
tians shrink  from  the  seeming  incongruity  or  irrev- 
erence of  asking  for  things  which  in  proportion  they 
rer[uire  as  much  as  they  do  their  daily  bread.  How 
few,  forexample,pray  for  relief  from  ordinary  bodily 
infirmities.  We  call  loudly  enough  when  death 
threatens,  and  we  return  thanks  as  if  we  were  con- 
fident that  our  prayer  for  deliverance  had  been 
henrd.  Why  may  not  God  regard  our  less  positive 
need,  our  familiar  and  daily  trouble,  our  habitual 
thorn  in  the  flesh,  our  consequent  unsoundness  of 
mind  and  diminished  opportunity  of  service  ?  Wh}- 
may  he  not  rebuke  the  personal  ailment  as  well 
as  the  pestilence  that  wasteth  a  nation  ?  In  any 
case  it  is  he  alone  wdio  gives  skill  to  ph}' sicians  and 
efficacy  to  their  remedies  ;  and  so  long  as  like  Asa, 


48  PROMISE    OF    THE 

king  of  Judah,  we  look  to  them  and  not  to  the 
Lord,  so  long  we  may  spend  our  substance  and  be 
nothing  bettered. 

How  few  Christians  pray  in  the  less  important 
domestic  and  social  changes  !  Life,  said  Mme.  de 
Stael  in  reference  to  happiness,  shows  Ijetter  in 
large  portions  than  in  the  daily  record.  So  we  ^iew 
it  in  its  moral  aspect.  The  history  minutely  given 
of  one  day,  of  a  day  not  of  the  eventful,  but  of  the 
even  tenor  of  those  which  make  up  life, — what  is 
it  to  the  Christian  ?  Of  a  life  ended  you  can  per- 
haps say  much,  even  with  caution  and  moderation. 
You  can  count  up  your  deeds  of  charity,  your 
words  of  kindness,  your  Sabbaths  faithfully  ob- 
served, your  hours  spent  in  reading  the  Scriptures 
and  in  prayer,  and,  be  they  few  or  many,  the  sum 
will  show  a  general  course  of  honesty,  benevolence, 
and  piety.  But  take  at  random  one  of  the  days 
which  have  made  up  this  life,  and  what  is  the  ac- 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  49 

count  which  it  will  be  likely  to  furnish,  particu- 
larl}^  in  regard  of  Christian  progress  and  peace  ? 
How  to  the  faithful  liver  is  each  day  filled  with 
trials  called  fetty  because  they  are  familiar,  with 
discouragements  which  would  be  insignificant  in 
description,  but  which  sicken  the  soul  and  palsy 
every  effort !  A  chance  word,  a  thoughtless  in- 
terference, an  unwelcome  claim,  a  child,  a  servant, 
a  visiter,  may  disturb  the  composure  of  your  mind 
as  well  as  the  order  of  your  plans.  A  light  touch 
destroysthe  balance  that  youhad  adjusted  with  such 
pains.  The  calmness  and  mental  elevation  to  which 
in  the  morning  you  had  attained  with  such  effort 
of  self-examination,  contemplation,  and  prayer, 
and  wdiich  you  thought  would  be  preserved  through 
the  day,  have  yielded  to  a  feeble,  seemingly  im- 
potent assault.  You  have  lost  your  just  gained 
foothold  on  the  rock,  and  are  tossed  about  on  the 
sea   of  your  undisciplined  feelings   and  unsound 


50  PROMISE    OF    THE 

judgment.  Or,  like  a  stray  child,  you  look  around 
you  bewildered  and  helpless  in  the  world's  wilder- 
ness. And  you  are  a  stray  child !  Confident  in 
your  knowledge  of  the  way,  you  have  withdraw^n 
from  the  Father's  presence,  wandered  from  the 
path  in  which  you  were  set  and  the  thick 
darkness  of  absence  from  the  Light  of  life,  now 
closes  around  you.  The  first  lesson  in  Chris- 
tian service  is  humility ;  fjiith,  dependence,  zeal, 
and  activity  are  the  second  ;  and  we  may  not  in- 
vert the  order,  or  we  destroy  the  character  and 
end  of  Christian  performance.  Preeminently  do 
the  sins  of  the  tongue  oppose  our  progress  and  heap 
up  occasion  for  shame  and  discouragement.  You 
began  a  discussion  in  the  love  of  truth  and  spirit 
of  peace,  but  pride  of  opinion  and  impatience  of 
opposition  mixed  themselves  with  the  zealous  af- 
fection for  a  good  thing,  and  gendered  a  strife  of 
words  in  which  you  dishonored  the  cause  which 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  51 

you  meant  to  recommend.  You  proposed  to  ele- 
vate your  adversary  to  ^''our  own  or  a  higher  level, 
and  you  have  descended  below  his.  Often  in  your 
private  and  public  discourse  the  pleasant  sound  of 
your  voice  lulls  your  Christian  caution,  literary  or 
religious  vanity  comes  in  like  a  torrent  on  your 
fluent  periods,  and  it  is  no  longer  Jesus,  your 
Teacher,  your  Saviour,  but  self,  a  crowned,  exalted, 
applauded  self,  that  engrosses  your  thoughts  and 
attracts  your  affection.  You  possessed  at  one  time 
a  large  measure  of  spiritual  peace,  a  sense  of  being 
right  with  God,  reconciled  and  at  rest  with  him. 
Almost  imperceptibly,  by  want  of  watchfulness,  by 
suffering  other  thoughts  to  intrude,  this  "joy  in 
the  Lord"  has  passed  first  into  a  natural  and  legi- 
timate animal  exhilaration,  then  into  lightmiiided- 
ness,  and  lastly  into  foohsh  tallving  and  jesting, 
which  truly  were  not  convenient  to  your  Christian 
character  and  attainment,  for  they  have  lessened 


52  PROMISE    OF    THE 

your  influence,  prevented  your  growth,  and  sepa- 
rated you  from  your  God. 

Oh  to  bring  our  religion  into  every  day  life,  to 
decorate  and  glorify  that  life,  gloomy,  distasteful, 
unlovely  as  it  often  is — to  hallow  it,  groveling,  sor- 
did, impure,  and  idolatrous  as  we  make  it,  with  tlie 
brightness,  sublimity,  and  holhiess  of  Christianity  ! 
Our  spiritual  progress  demands  such  application. 
The  martyr  spirit  advances  to  the  faggot  and  the 
rack,  but  shrinks  from  the  personal  inconvenience, 
the  slight  bodily  derangement,  the  deferred  Impe — 
from  the  long  list  of  trials  of  patience  and  temper 
induced  by  the  ignorance  and  folly  of  our  fellow- 
man,  or  our  own  lack  of  caution  nnd  self-control. 
We  commit  ourselves  in  our  time  of  meditation  and 
prayer  to  God's  direction,  and  are  ready  to  submit 
to  it  in  every  particular;  we  can  forgive  our  worst 
enemy,  dethrone  our  idols,  endure  with  calmness 
and  trust  bereavement,  poverty,  and   death.     In 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  06 

that  frame  of  mind  we  cross  our  threshold,  are 
met  by  some  trifling  test  of  our  Christian  princi- 
ple, and — where  is  it  ?  We  were  equal  to  the  cast- 
ing down  of  Satan,  and  the  trampling  under  foot  of 
tdl  his  temptations,  and  behold  us  snared  and  pros- 
trate by  his  unsuspected  nets  and  stumblingblocks  ! 
Christian  service  requires  the  minutest  applica- 
tion of  the  principles  of  the  gospel.  We  bring  our 
public  confession  of  Christ,  our  charities,  our  ob- 
servance of  the  Sabbath  and  of  humanly  appointed 
seasons,  and  we  do  well.  But  how  is  it  as  to  all 
jiersonal  habits,  all  family  rule  and  j^lans  ?  Do  we 
fear  that  the  Master  will  not  regard  some  little 
self-denial,  will  not  accept  some  offering  or  conse- 
cration, because  it  has  small  outward  influence, 
possibly  no  bearing  whatever  but  on  our  habit  of 
contemplation  and  grateful  acknowledgment  ?  Let 
us  go  for  answer  to  the  blessed  book  which  has 
precept  for   every  perplexity,  comfort  for  every 

5* 


54  PROMISE    OF    THE 

sorrow,  and,  for  marvellously  numerous  instances 
of  each,  examples  of  imparted  instruction  and  re- 
lief.    Take  the  account,  in  the  fourteenth  chapter 
of  the  Gospel  of  Mark,  of  Mary,  the  sister  of  Laza- 
rus, who,  havinir  an  alabaster  box  of  ointment  of 
spikenard,  very  precious,  brake  it  and  poured  it 
on  his  head.     Some  who  were  present  had  indigna- 
tion and  said,  "Why  w^as  this  waste  of  the  ointment 
made  ?"     Like  many  in  the  present  day,  they  did 
not  recognize  that  when  love  to  God  fills  the  heart 
of   a    brother,    we    need    not    concern   ourselves 
much  about  the   mode  of  its  manifestation,  nor 
censure    and    condemn   him    because    he    denies 
himself  or  does  his   Master's  work  in  a  fashion 
different  from  ours.     The  Saviour,  who  cared  for 
no  ''  costly  oblation"  or  personal  decoration,  whose 
meat  was  to  do  the  will  of  Him  that  sent  him, 
came  to  the  assistance  of  the  timid   and  tearful 
woman.     It  is  to  our  thinking  one  of  the  most 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  55 

beautiful  acts  of  his  life,  one  of  the  most  sustain- 
ing and  cheering  records  of  his  wonderful  tender- 
ness, of  his  readiness  to  receive  our  smallest  tribute 
and  relieve  our  most  insignificant  distress.  "  Let 
her  alone  ;  why  trouble  ye  her  ?"  The  w^ord  trouble 
is,  if  we  mistake  not,  from  a  root  which  signifies 
to  annoy  intensely,  to  wear  aivay,  even  as  the  re- 
proaches of  well  meaning  men,  who  argue  incor- 
rectly  on,  it  may  be,  just  premises,  do  excessively 
distress  and  irritate.  There  are  exceptional  cases 
which  the  discrimination  of  ordinary  observers  is 
not. delicate  enough  to  discern,  but  which,  at  least, 
the  heart  of  every  Christian  should  be  large  enough 
to  embrace.  There  may  be  a  development  of  spi- 
ritual life  which  is  strange  and  of  doubtful  value 
simply  because  of  its  extraordinary  vigor.  We  err 
greatly  if  we  seek  to  trim  evenly  or  train  in  iden- 
tical direction  the  plants  in  the  Lord's  vineyard. 
"  She  hath  wrought  a  good  work  on  me  ;" — a  heauti- 


56  PROMISE    OF    THE 

fid  work,  in  the  original.  To  have  sold  the  oint- 
ment for  more  than  three  hundred  pence,  and  to 
have  given  them  to  the  poor,  might  have  been  a 
<jood  work  :  to  anoint  her  Master  with  her  precious 
ointment,  to  do  what  she  could  to  honor  him  and 
give  expression  to  her  great  love  and  gratitude, 
was — you  objecting  and  contemning,  because  unen- 
lightened and  unloving  Pharisees  !  —  a  heautiful 
work  wdiich  remains  a  memorial  wherever  the  gospel 
shall  be  preached.  If  the  Saviour  accepted  this 
offering  of  no  relative  value,  this  simple  perfuming 
of  his  person,  this  fond  lingering  near  him,  this 
ministry  of  an  affection  unconscious  of  its  own 
depth  and  its  worth  in  the  regard  of  the  great 
object,  this  tribute,  so  humbly,  carefully,  tenderly 
rendered,  will  he  not  accept  the  offering  that  some 
other  troubled,  destitute,  fearful,  it  may  be,  but  lov- 
ing &o\\\  shall  bring  to  him  ?  Is  there  no  help,  no  pity, 
no  tenderness,  but  for  Mary  of  Bethany  ?  Was  it 
only  as  a  reward  to  her  that  the  memory  of  her  act 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  57 

was  made  perpetual  ?  Was  not  encouragement  de- 
signed for  the  trembling  and  the  sorrowing,  for  the 
timid  woman,  the  ignorant  child,  for  those  who  can 
perform  no  great  service,  who  have  no  offering 
specially  appropriate  or  valuable  to  the  great  cause 
of  the  Redeemer  ?  Ah,  there  are  ways  in  which 
even  the  jewels  and  perfumes,  the  costly  works  of 
art  and  appliances  of  luxury,  the  personal  decora- " 
tion  or  endowment,  the  much  prized  ointment, 
the  profuse  and  beautiful  hair,  may  be  consecrated 
to  the  service  of  the  Saviour,  and  become,  as  well  as 
the  bells  of  the  horses  and  the  pots  in  Jerusalem 
and  in  Judah,  "  holiness  unto  the  Lord  !" 

It  has  been  said  that  the  miraculous  attestation 
of  the  Divine  approval  of  Manoah's  offering  was 
far  fuller  evidence  of  goodness  and  condescension 
than  the  communication  of  the  messenger's  name 
would  have  afforded.  A  conviction  of  weakness 
and  want,  and  of  the  power  and  lovingkindness  of 
God,  leads  naturally,  inevitably  it  would  seem,  to 


58  PROMISE    OF    THE 

the  act  of  prayer.  If  his  eye  takes  in  all  our  case, 
and  his  heart  all  our  necessity,  what  more  do  we 
require  ?  It  may  please  him  to  answer  us  to  the  let- 
ter of  our  petition.  The  thing  desired  may  be  good 
for  us,  or  the  conferring  of  it  may  contribute  to 
strengthen  our  faith  in  the  prevailing  power  of 
prayer.  But  if  we  receive  not  as  we  ask,  we  shall 
find,  if  we  watch  and  wait,  that  Ave  shall  still  re- 
ceive, and  more  largely  perhaps  than  we  asked. 
It  is  not  needful  to  exemplify.  Christian  biogra- 
phy furnishes  ample  confirmation  of  the  declaration. 
Our  own  experience,  if  we  heed  its  testimony,  can 
be  eloquent  in  the  matter.  "  He  who  observes 
providences,"  says  Doddridge,  "  shall  have  provi- 
dences to  observe."  There  may  indeed  be  a  wrong 
reading  of  God's  promises  of  protection  and  sup- 
ply. Foregoing  our  humility  and  submissiveness, 
we  may  conclude  that  God  will  order  events  ac- 
cording to  our  desire,  and  we  may  so  pervert  the 
doctrine  of  his  minute  providence  as  to  deem  it 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  59 

exercised  for  our  simple  convenience  and  enjoy- 
ment. We  may  speak  with  an  undue  confidence 
which  sometimes  passes  into  a  revolting  positive- 
ness,  and  we  may  use  great  swelling  Avords  of 
vanity  instead  of  the  cautious  expression  of  con- 
sciously ignorant  and  helpless  creatures.  In  many 
a  mode  does  the  rebellious  heart  assert  itself.  If 
in  no  other,  it  will  prefer  a  claim  to  a  distinction 
in  providential  dealing,  will  presume  a  larger  ex- 
perience, anticipate  a  fuller  reward,  and  interpret 
as  Divine  plans  the  workings  of  its  own  will,  and 
the  suggestions  of  its  inordinate  affections.  Even 
in  the  way  of  self-renunciation  may  self  be  consti- 
tuted the  centre  of  the  moral  universe.  Viewed 
rightly  and  in  connection,  the  doctrines  of  God's 
special  providence  and  of  his  readiness  to  admit 
all  our  requests  are  among  the  most  precious  re- 
velations of  the  gospel.  They  solve  our  perplexity, 
remove  our  fear,  diminish  our  grief,  and  lift  us  per- 
manently into  heavenly-minded ness  and  peace. 


GO  PROMISE  OF  THE 


GOD'S  PAST  DEALINGS  ARE  A  GROUND  OF  CONSOLATION 
AND  CONFIDENT  EXPECTATION. 

We  have  seen  that  Manoah  and  his  Avife,  as 
they  beheld  the  wondrous  ascent  of  the  angel, 
fell  on  their  faces  to  the  gronnd,  and  that  Manoah 
then  knew  that  this  messenger  was  an  angel  of 
the  Lord.  One  would  suppose  that  this  fearful 
servant  of  God  had  been  strengthened  in  faith 
and  trust  by  what  had  happened,  that  he  would 
feel  himself  the  agent  of  God's  designs,  and 
as  such,  however  inmiinent  the  present  danger, 
sure  of  protection  and  blessing.  But  it  is  not 
always  that  faith  increases  with  manifestation  of 
truth,  gratitude  with  benefits,  and  love  with  per- 
ception of  excellence.  To  the  Israelites  Moses 
had  occasion  to  say,  "You  have  seen  all  that  the 
Lord  did  before  your  eyes  *  '''  '•'  '■^'  the  great 
temptations  *  '''  *  the  signs  and  those  great  mira- 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  Gl 

cles :  yet  the  Lord  hath  not  given  you  an  heart  to 
perceive,  and  ears  to  hear  unto  this  day."  If 
Manoah  was  famiUar  with  the  history  of  his  people, 
he  might  at  this  time  have  had  present  to  his 
mind  a  portion  of  their  experience  very  similar  to 
his  own,  and  replete  with  instruction  and  comfort. 
"Behold,"  said  Israel,  "the  Lord  our  God  hath 
shewed  us  his  glory  and  his  greatness,  and  we 
have  heard  his  voice  out  of  the  midst  of  the  fire  : 
we  have  seen  this  day  that  God  doth  talk  with 
man,  and  he  liveth."  Bnt  IManoah  said  to  his 
wife  "  We  shall  surely  die,  because  we  have  seen 
God."  She  rejoined,  "  If  the  Lord  were  pleased 
to  kill  us,  he  would  not  have  received  a  burnt 
offering  and  meat  offering  at  our  hands,  neither 
would  he  have  shewed  us  all  these  things,  nor 
would  as  at  this  time  have  told  us  such  things  as 
these."  This  woman  was  indeed  a  comforter  and 
help  in  the  Lord  to  her  husband.     She  reminded 


G2  PROMISE   OF    THE 

him  of  what  he  had  beheld,  of  favors  already  con- 
ferred and  shoAved  to  him  the  unreasonableness  of 
supposing  that  God  would  frustrate  his  own  plans. 
With  the  argument  of  Manoah's  wife  would  we 
approach  you.  Christian  mourner,  and  may  God 
who  manifested  himself  to  these  his  servants  reveal 
in  some  measure  to  you  also  the  wisdom  and 
mercy  of  his  dealings  ! 

It  was,  if  w^e  mistake  not,  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson, 
who  said  in  substance  that  at  a  certain  point  in 
the  acquisition  of  knowledge  it  w^ould  be  almost 
as  profitable  to  recall  all  that  has  been  learned  and 
forgotten  as  to  gain  more.  That  this  to  some 
extent  is  true,  is  proved  by  what  is  observed  of  the 
man  of  a  mental  capacity  moderate  except  as  to 
the  faculty  of  memory.  He  seems  continually  to 
rise  to  an  intellectual  level  much  higher  than  his 
own.  Memory,  as  described  by  some  writers  on 
the  mind,  implies  two  things, — the  imver  of  retain- 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  G3 

ing  knowledge,  and  that  of  presenting  it  to  the  mind 
v:hen  occasion  requires.  Retentiveness,  according  to 
this  view,  is  the  characteristic  of  the  first  power, 
readiness,  of  the  second.  We  question  that  a  careful 
analysis  shows  this  twofold  operation.  Memory 
is  also  defined  as  the  revival  of  a  mode  of  con- 
sciousness experienced:  the  power  of  recognizing  as 
former  ohjects  of  attention  the  thoughts  that  from 
time  to  time  occur  to  us:  the  keeping  of  those  simple 
ideas  tohich  have  hcen  received  from  sensation  or  re- 
flection. Perhaps  it  is  as  accurately  and  more 
simply  exhibited  as  the  action  of  the  mind  in  rela- 
tion to  past  time.  Memory  is  governed  in  all  its 
exercise  by  laws  of  association.  Skill,  whether 
original  or  acquired,  in  the  application  and  modifi- 
cation of  these  laws,  constitutes  the  excellence  of 
the  faculty.  A  mind  largely  provided  with  prin- 
ciples, which  in  their  proper  use  become  preced- 
ents, is,  in  some  cases,  fitted  to  deal  with  new 


G4  PROMISE   OF   THE 

modes  and  combinations  of  thought  equally  with 
the  mind  endowed  with  large  reasoning  power,  or 
ready  perception  of  the  relations  of  ideas.  Thus 
is  seen,  in  one  aspect  at  least,  the  importance,  in- 
iellectuallii  considered,  of  the  cultivation  of  memory. 
As  a  means  of  iwadical  insiriiciion  the  import- 
ance of  this  faculty  is  not  usually  estimated  as  it 
deserves.  Few  persons  stiidi/  the  past  either  as  to  its 
general  or  individual  record.  Very  few  have  any 
conception  of  its  treasures  of  minute  and  various 
precept.  The  minds  of  men,  especially  in  this  active, 
even  restless  age  of  the  w^orld,  are  occupied  with  the 
present  and  the  future.  We  detect  a  smile  on  the 
lips  of  the  young  as  we  bid  them  pause  in  their 
course,  cast  a  backward  glance,  and  learn  a  lesson 
irom  what  it  discerns.  Yet,  '•  the  thing  which 
hatli  been,  it  is  that  which  shall  be."  The  object 
Avhich  causes  us  to  rise  early,  to  deny  ourselves, 
to  risk  health,  happiness,  and  even  life,  hns  been 


LIFE    THAT   NOW    IS.  65 

pursued  as  eagerly  by  others ;  the  passion  that 
possesses  all  our  being  and  influences  all  our  action, 
that  by  turns  enraptures  and  agonizes,  and  rules 
in  its  strength  even  in  our  dying  hour — that  pas- 
sion has  thrilled  through  other  frames  and  perhaps 
taught  its  lesson  to  other  hearts.  Nay,  our  im- 
pulses and  emotions  continually  repeat  themselves. 
There  is  an  ended  history  of  our  inner  life.  Years 
pass  and  it  begins  again,  to  present  new  scenes 
and  actors  but  to  conclude  much  as  before.  How 
would  it  be  with  us  if  careful  retrospect  could  im- 
part wisdom — if  we  would  examine  our  chart, 
look  out  for  signals  of  rock  and  shoal,  and  prose- 
cute the  voyage  of  life  ever  mindful  of  already 
experienced  peril  and  loss  ? 

Little  account  is  taken  of  the  past  by  many 
Christians  in  reference  to  its  sins.  It  is  not  that 
these  should  cast  their  pall  over  the  remaining 
[»ortion  of  life,  that  we  should  hug  to  ojr  bosom 

6* 


GG  PROMISE   OF    THE 

the  gnawing  remembrance  of  guilt  and  misery,  or 
carry  a  cross  which  onr  Saviour  has  lifted  once  for 
all  as  to  time  gone  by,  and  will  remove  for  evermore 
if  we  agree  to  take  upon  us  in  its  stead  his  easy  yoke 
and  light  burden.  No,  our  sin  is  not  heaped  up 
in  awful  accumulation  to  overwhelm  us  with  shame 
and  despair  through  life,  and,  if  remitted,  to  be  so 
only  at  life's  end  !  He  who  is  at  once  our  High 
Priest  and  our  Victim  stands  ever  near,  not  indeed 
to  make,  or  to  give  himself,  another  sacrifice  for  sin, 
but  to  apply  freely  the  unfailing  virtue  of  the  offer- 
ing already  made.  That  fountain  for  sin  and  un- 
cleanness  is  never  dry,  nor,  like  the  pool  of  Be- 
thesda,  does  it  cleanse  only  at  "a  certain  season," 
and  a  few  of  the  many  who  resort  thither.  AVe  afflict 
ourselves  needlessly,  and  contrary  to  gospel  teach- 
ing, on  account  of  our  past  sins,  if  they  have  been 
truly  repented  of.  But  there  is  an  aspect  in  which 
we  would  do  well  to  hold  them  ever  present.    It  is 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  07 

that  of  the  instruction  which  they  impart.  If  ^Ye 
observe  closely  the  temptation  and  the  yielding, 
recall  the  shame,  suffering,  and  penitence,  shall  we 
not  walk  more  softly,  and  bo  more  watchful  of 
coming  dangers?  The  way  is  covered  with  snares 
and  slippery  places,  and  if  God  has  hitherto  plucked 
our  feet  out  of  the  net,  and  brought  us  up  out  of 
the  horrible  pit  and  miry  clay,  shall  not  our  eyes 
be  ever  toward  him  in  review  of  the  dealing  as  in 
hope  of  deliverance  ? 

The  consideration  of  the  past  is  important  in 
respect  to  the  temptation  wdth  which  we  have  suc- 
cessfully struggled.  The  modes  of  rescue  from 
our  spiritual  foes  are  many.  At  one  time,  we  re- 
cognize in  the  thick  of  the  conflict  a  strength 
beyond  all  our  consciousness  and  expectation,  a 
strength  seemingly  irresistible,  and  which  wins  a 
speedy  and  easy  victoiy.  At  another  time,  there 
is  no  such  power.     With  the  desire  to  triumph, 


G8  TROMISE    OF    THE 

the  will  seems  dead  to  every  stimulus,  a  faintness 
and  prostration  of  spirit,  so  intense  that  it  seems 
half  physical,  takes  hold  upon  us,  we  feel  the 
hopeless  sadness  or  indifference  of  the  victim  for 
whom  escape  is  impossible,  and  we  cease  to  pray 
and  to  strive : — let  the  matter  go  as  it  will,  the 
trial  is  too  hard — resist  as  I  may,  I  must  yield 
at  last!  But  we  were  not  permitted  to  yield. 
Some  diversion  took  place.  The  discipline  was 
afforded,  and  not  invariably  in  the  Avay  of  punish- 
ment. Some  new  interest  or  pursuit,  some  un- 
expected calamity  or  blessinp:,  diverted  us  from  the 
train  of  thought,  and  at  the  edge  of  the  precipice 
withheld  us  from  the  plunge.  At  times,  trifling 
influences  have  been  endowed  v/ith  a  power  never 
known  before.  Wrought  up  to  a  frenzy  of  passion 
and  self-will,  some  sweet,  familiar  song,  some  act,  or 
tone,  or  look  of  ordinary  kindness,  some  glimpse  of 
a  grief  greater,  perhaps  less  than  our  own,  some 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  69 

vision  of  old  age  crouching  under  disease  and  want, 
of  "wan  and  wretched  childhood  begging  by  the 
"wayside,  of  man  going  to  his  long  home  and  the 
mourners  going  about  the  streets  —  the  lightest 
touch,  the  gentlest  breeze,  may  reach  the  answer- 
ing chords,  and  the  whole  soul  vibrates  in  har- 
mony with  God's  appointment  and  gives  forth  notes 
of  acknowledgment  and  praise.  Reader,  this  is  no 
imaginary  sketch.  Look  into  your  life,  and  you 
also  may  see  the  living  lines,  and  they  may  remain 
to  you  an  indelible  record  of  your  Father  s  faith- 
fulness and  mercy. 

The  consideration  of  the  past  is  undervalued  by 
many  Christians  its  a  means  of  encouragement.  The 
special  providence  of  God  in  relation  to  ourselves 
is  an  open  book  with  instruction  in  every  page 
and  line,  and  most  of  us  read  it  carelessly,  if  at  all. 
We  have  asked  with  earnestness  a  blessing  and 
have  not  watched  for  its  coming.     We  prayed  for 


70  PROMISE   OF   THE 

the  conversion  of  ca  friend,  and  have  since  neg- 
lected to  observe  his  course,  or  perhaps  have  not 
given  a  thought  to  his  spiritual  condition.  We 
set  ourselves  to  attain  to  some  Christian  grace,  to 
secure  some  outward  benefit,  and,  as  we  labored,  for- 
got to  depend  on  the  guidance  and  aid  which  ^^e  had 
implored.  If  we  failed,  we  lamented  our  ill  fortune 
or  management,  and  perhaps  murmured  against 
God.  If  we  succeeded,  w^e  looked  still  to  self, 
gave  to  self  the  honor,  and  withheld  it  from 
God.  Christians  rarely  view  themselves  accord- 
ing to  their  actual  privilege.  If  a  man  takes 
into  consideration  all  his  being  and  circumstances, 
what  satisfaction  should  it  afford  to  him  to  re- 
ceive at  the  outset  of  life  from  a  supremely  wise 
and  powerful  being  an  assurance  of  the  most  minute 
care  and  direction  on  the  sole  condition  of  an  ab- 
solute committal  of  self  to  his  disposal !  The 
Christian  is  assured  by  the  facts  and  promises  of 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  71 

Scripture  that  God  will  thus  provide  for  and  guide 
him,  •'  will  strengthen  him  upon  the  bed  of  lan- 
guishing," and  "  make,"  or  turn,  as  for  his  refresh- 
ment, "all  his  bed;"  that  if  he  be  "poor  and  needy," 
the  Lord  thinketh  upon  him ;  if  he  be  in  ignorance 
or  perplexity — "  I  will  instruct  thee  and  teach 
thee  in  the  way  which  thou  shalt  go  :  I  will  guide 
thee  with  mine  eye ;"  if  men  speak  evil  of  him — 
"He  shall  bring  forth  thy  righteousness  as  the 
light  and  thy  judgment  as  the  noonday;"  in  the 
day  of  battle — "  I  will  beat  down  his  foes  before  his 
face,  and  plague  them  that  hate  him."  Whatever 
and  how  numerous  soever  the  aftlictions  of  the 
righteous,  he  may  know  that  "  the  Lord  delivereth 
him  out  of  them  all ;" — "  lie  keepeth  all  his  bones, 
not  one  of  them  is  broken."  "'  He  that  trusteth  in 
the  Lord,  mercy  shall  compass  him  about ;" — show- 
ing, according  to  Matthew  Henry,  that  he  shall  not 
depart  from  God,  for  mercy  shall  keep  him  in,  nor 


/  L  PROMISE    OP   THE 

shall  any  real  evil  break  in  upon  him,  for  mercy 
shall  keep  it  out.  A  "  rock  that  is  higher  than  I " 
in  the  stormy  sea  of  life  ;  a  "  covering  of  wings  "  on 
this  cold  earth,  where,  moreover,  foes  hover  contin- 
ually around  ;  a  "  hiding-place,"  a  •' sun,"  a  "shield," 
a  "fortress,"  a  "shadow  from  the  heat,"  a  "strong- 
tower," — by  all  that  imagery  can  convey  is  God 
presented  to  us  in  lovingkindness  and  tender 
mercy.  If,  Christian,  these  declarations  are  not 
sufficient  warrant  for  confidence,  if  you  cannot 
commit  yourself  to  this  Preserver  and  Benefactor, 
what  shall  satisfy  you,  to  whom  will  you  look  for 
the  supply  of  your  vast,  your  life-long  necessity  ? 
"If," — to  renew  the  fervent  appeal  of  the  younger 
Mason — "you  ask  for  better  assurance  than  his 
words  of  promise;  if  that  will  not  fortify  you 
against  the  ills  of  life  and  detith;  if  you  have  not 
learned,  w^ith  the  father  of  the  faithful,  against 
hope  to  believe  in  hope,  'not  staggering  at  the 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  73 

promise  of  God  through  unbelief/  make  thorough 
work  of  it;  cast  away  his  name,  his  badge,  and 
his  Hvery;  take  all  the  comfort  that  sense  can 
bring  you;  but  do  not,  whatever  else  you  pretend 
to,  do  not  set  up  for  a  believer  in  Jesus  Christ !" 

We  go  a  step  farther.  God  has  not  only  prom- 
ised but  performed.  To  prove  this,  by  conducting 
the  reader  through  the  fields  of  sacred  and  profane 
history  and  of  Christian  biography,  would  be  a 
task  prolonged  indeed  but  of  most  successful  ac- 
complishment. But  it  is  only  to  our  reader's  in- 
dividual experience  that  we  now  desire  to  refer. 
We  would  urge  the  review  of  ordinary  and  extra- 
ordinary blessings  and  trials,  and  observation  of 
the  fact  and  mode  of  deliverance  from  aflliction. 
"Let  it  be  when  these  signs" — to  us  in  these  days 
the  proofs  of  God's  past  providence  and  love — 
"are  come  unto  thee,  that  thou  do  as  occasion 
serve  thee, /or  God  is  tvith  theeT  The  survey  of 
7 


74  PROMISE   OF    THE 

God's  dealings  communicates  ample  and  permanent 
encouragement.  Without  contemplation  of  his 
arrangements  ^ve  cannot  receive  instruction  nor 
experience  gratitude.  "Have  I  been  so  long  time 
with  you,  and  yet  hast  thou  not  known  me,  Philip?" 
Christian,  the  Master's  question  is  put  to  you.  So 
long — and  do  you  know  him  yet?  So  long — so 
many  mercies,  so  many  opportunities,  unobserved 
or  neglected !  So  long  his  voice  sounding  in  your 
ears  its  teaching,  its  reproof,  its  warning,  its 
comfort,  and  you  have  not  yd  gathered  its  mean- 
ing! The  sheep  knows  the  shepherd's  voice  and 
follows  liim,  but  how  have  you  followed  your  watch- 
ful, loving  Shepherd?  How  tender  the  appeal  to 
Philip !  How  touching  the  reference  to  the  many 
and  varied  scenes  through  which  the  Teacher  and 
his  disciples  had  passed !  It  pains  acutely  to  be  ■'  not 
known,"  to  be  misunderstood  by  the  objects  of  our 
solicitude  and  love,  to  find  our  principles,  motives, 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  iO 

and  labors  contemned  or  disregarded.  Did  tlie 
Saviour  in  his  human  nature  feel  something  of  this 
sting  when  he  addressed  his  delicate  and  mournful 
interrogatory  to  the  slow  and  cold  disciple,  who 
after  so  many  instructive  occasions  failed  to  dis- 
discern  Christ's  Divine  nature  and  ability?  When 
under  the  pressure  of  doabt  or  sorrow  we  have 
lacked  faith  in  his  power  to  deliver  or  sought  help 
from  some  earthly  source,  do  we  think  that  no  ap- 
peal is  made  to  us?  Truly,  we  ought  to  hiov)  him, 
ignorant,  helpless  as  we  are;  Ave  ought  to  know 
Mm.,  our  Elder  Brother,  our  Teacher,  our  Guide, 
our  Master,  our  Saviour,  our  Lord  and  our  God! 
We  have  need  to  Jcnow  him,  for  only  when  we  know 
God — God  in  Christ,  can  we  say  with  Philip,  ''It 
sufficeth  us!" 

The  argument  for  the  Christian's  encouragement 
in  trial  on  account  of  God's  past  dealings,  is  not 
fairly  brought  to  a  close  without  adverting  to  such 


76  PROMISE    OF   THE 

affliction  as  seems  not  to  admit  of  this  mode  of 
consolation.  There  is  sorrow  which  has  no  parallel 
in  the  snfTerer's  experience,  and  which  is  a  '"mys- 
tery of  darkness  "  both  as  to  its  own  intensity  and  as 
to  the  indications  of  Providence.  It  hides  for  a  while 
the  Father's  face  and  surronnds  with  thick  clouds 
the  throne  of  his  judgment.  "  Shew  me  wherefore 
thou  contendest  with  me.  Is  it  good  unto  thee 
that  thou  shouldest  oppress,  that  thou  shouldest 
despise  the  work  of  thine  hands?"  ''Thine 
hands  have  made  me  and  fashioned  me  tos^ether 
round  about;  yet  thou  dost  destroy  me."  There 
are  periods  when  life  in  its  round  of  mixed  and 
moderate  pleasure  and  pain  comes  to  a  dead  pause. 
No  fair  prospect  remains,  every  cheering  voice  is 
silent,  no  flickering  flame  bursts  up  from  the  em- 
bers of  hope  to  kindle  the  soul  afresh  into  light 
and  warmth.  As  we  approach  such  grief,  our  step 
falters  and  our  heart  grows  faint.     There  is  but 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  77 

one  comfort  for  thy  trouble,  poor,  suffering  soul! 
und  what  if  thou  canst  not  put  forth  thy  hand  to 
receive  it?  If  thou  wert  only  bruised  and  bleeding 
from  the  assaults  to  thy  peace,  Ave  might  pour  oil 
and  wine  into  thy  wounds,  raise  thee  to  pursue  thy 
painful  way,  sustain  and  strengthen  thee  wath  words 
of  kindness  and  hope.  But  what  when  life  seems 
ebbing  away,  when  the  eye  refuses  to  brighten, 
and  the  chill  of  hopeless  despondency  is  creeping 
slowly  over  the  frame ! 

Christian  brother,  you  have  lately  met  with  the 
severest  affliction  of  your  life,  possibly  in  your 
circumstances  and  with  your  temperament  the 
severest  that  you  could  endure.  You  had  some 
blessing,  w^iich,  as  a  Christian,  you  held  watch- 
fully over  self,  thankfully  toward  God.  With  its 
possession  w^as  identified  not  merely  your  present 
enjoyment  but  your  spring  of  action,  your  largest 
opportunity  of  usefulness.       In  its   absence   the 


/O  PROMISE    OF    THE 

feeble  knees  tremble  and  give  way,  the  once  busy 
hands  stiffen  and  droop.  Your  soul  grew  strong 
on  that  nourishing  supply.  The  clouds  of  gloom, 
doubt,  self-tormenting  speculation,  vanished  in 
your  sky,  and  clear,  warm  was  the  ray  that  shone 
on  your  path  of  duty.  This  blessing  brightened 
every  corner  of  your  abode,  dignified  the  humblest, 
office  of  your  hands,  pervaded  the  intricate  mazes 
of  your  mental  operations,  raised  you  above  petty 
cares,  furnished  you  ever  with  a  standard  of  attain- 
ment, was  in  the  past  an  unfiiding  memory,  in  the 
future,  a  fair,  outspread  landscape  of  varied  and 
rational  enjoyment.  In  your  estimate  and  affec- 
tion it  was  inferior  only  to  the  God  who  gave  it, 
to  the  uses  he  connected  with  its  enjoyment,  and 
to  the  self-denial  in  relation  to  it  which  was  your 
willing  sacrifice  inasmuch  as  he  demanded  it.  This 
anxiously  guarded  treasure,  more  than  any  other 
drew  your  heart  to  the  heaven  where  decay  and 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS,  79 

violence  cannot  come.  By  your  intensity  of  ap- 
preciation this  gift  became  to  you  a  gracious  influ- 
ence, increasing  your  love  for  God,  the  giver,  for 
God,  the  fuller  source  of  knowledge  and  happiness. 
This  blessing  was  one  of  the  highest  forms  of 
earthly  affection  and  pursuit, — scarcely,  indeed, 
earthly y  so  much  did  holy  and  eternal  principles 
and  tendencies  constitute  and  characterize  it.  It 
was  the  love  of  a  wife,  a  child,  a  friend,  devotion 
to  science  or  art,  a  congenial  and  Avidely  useful 
occupation.  Whatever  it  was,  the  elevating,  hal- 
lowing influence  Avas,  in  different  degrees,  still  the 
same.  Whatever  it  was  in  your  case,  it  is  gone. 
Physical  disabilities,  poverty,  death,  have  ended 
your  connection  with  it  for  ever.  Your  condition 
seems  hopeless  to  yourself  and  to  others.  It  may 
be  so  as  to  the  lost  possession  but  not  as  to  future 
tranquillity  and  peace.  Why  limit  God's  resources, 
why  w^eaken  his  power,  distrust  his  mercy,  forget 


80  PROMISE    OF   THE 

his  love?  Cling  you  to  the  thought  of  the  past 
with  such  clenched  hraid  that  you  cannot  stretch 
it  forth  to  Him  who  would  sustain  and  deliver 
you?  That  much  prized  blessing  is  removed,  and 
no  argument  of  ours  can  make  the  fact  other  than 
it  is.  The  arrows  stick  fast  and  there  is  no  sound- 
ness in  your  flesh.  But  He  who  conferred  the 
benefit  may  design  a  greater,  and  at  least  will  not 
disregard  your  positive  necessity.  "By  all  these 
things  men  live,  and  in  all  these  things  is  the  life 
of  my  spirit :  so  w^ilt  thou  recover  me  and  make 
me  to  live."  You  thought  to  serve  Him  in  a  good 
way;   He  finds  for  you  a  better.     You  thought 

honestly  to  be  the  more  fliithful  for  the  talents 
committed  to  you,  for  the  happiness  that  fdled 
your  days — to  increase  in  personal  holiness  and 
in  Christian  influence;  but  God  shows  you  that 
you  shall  not  only  obtain  "a  little  strength,"  but 
learn    to   walk  without   human    help    or   earthly 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  81 

stay.  The  discipline  is  severe,  but  it  is  adminis- 
tered in  measure  and  in  mercy.  That  on  which 
you  rested  is  taken  from  you  and  you  fall,  but 
3'ou  shall  not  be  utterly  cast  down,  for  the  Lord 
upholdeth  yon  with  his  hand.  The  cup  which 
your  Father  gives  you,  surely  you  can  drink.  The 
soul  of  the  Son  of  God  was  exceeding  sorrowful 
even  unto  death.  "If  thou  be  willing,  remove 
this  cup  from  me,"  w^as  the  utterance  of  his  hu- 
manity ;  but  in  mockery,  and  scourging,  and  death 
on  the  cross,  he  drained  the  cup,  and  oh,  the  blessed 
result  to  men  of  forgiveness  and  salvation !  There 
is  scarcely  a  parallel  between  his  sorrow  and  yours, 
between  his  submission  and  yours,  between  the 
support  which  he  received  and  that  which  you 
have  reason  to  anticipate.  Unto  him  in  the  hour 
of  anguish  there  appeared  an  angel  from  heaven 
strengthening  him.  Unto  you  is  afforded  the  re- 
cord of  his  suffering,  his  death,  his  perfected  atone- 


82  PROMISE    OF    THE 

inent,  his  sure  salvation.  But  there  is  a  regard  in 
which  a  resemblance  may  exist  between  your  Mas- 
ter's trial  and  yours: — "being  in  an  agony  lie 
prai/ed  more  earncdhjr 

You  who  suffer  Avith  Christ  are  privileged  to 
pray  to  the  Father  to  whom  he  prayed.  Like  him 
you  may  obtain  strength  not  only  to  sustain  your 
burden  but  to  seek  sorrowing  yet  unwatchful  souls, 
and  address  to  them  your  counsel  and  warning. 
If  your  consolation  seems  long  delayed,  if  prostrate 
you  must  remain,  at  least  be,  as  the  Israelites  in 
their  humiliation,  on  your  face  before  God  in  peni- 
tence and  submission.  This  helpless  attitude  is 
not  hopeless.  There  are  those  who  can  tell  of  an 
entire  casting  of  the  soul  upon  God,  of  a  crying 
unto  him  which  is  hardly  prayer  in  form  though 
wholly  prayer  in  substance:  —  Lord  remember! 
Jesus  help  me !  I  am  blind,  let  me  receive  my 
sight!    I  am  weary,  give  me  rest!    Thou  art  so  full 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  83 

of  mercy.  Manifest  it  to  me  now !  I  ask  not  that 
my  sorrow  be  taken  away,  if  it  is  thy  will  that  I 
bear  it.  But  I  do  ask,  I  plead,  I  strive  with  thee 
that  thou  wilt  remove  this  feebleness,  this  despair, 
that  thou  wilt  fill  me  with  trust  in  thee,  and 
comfort  me  not  with  my  desire  but  with  thy  love. 
It  is  utterly  impossible  that  you  place  yourself 
at  God's  disposal,  to  accept  what  he  sends  and 
perform  what  he  requires,  and  that  you  continue 
to  exercise  towards  him  this  cheerful  submission, 
without  receiving  his  protection  and  support,  per- 
haps even,  according  to  ?/ our  faith,  some  unexpected 
and  bountiful  provision.  In  the  deepest  distress 
there  come  at  times  alleviations  other  than  spiritual, 
unlooked  for  mercies,  streams  of  refreshment  from 
sources  hitherto  concealed.  But  though  a  bless- 
ing ma?/  be  granted  in  this  form,  in  another  it  is  cer- 
tain and  sufficient.  //'  ye  endure  chastening,  God 
dcalctJi  vnth  you  as  tvith  sons.     This  is  the  consola- 


84  PROMISE    OF    THE 

tion  which  aboundeth,  the  end  of  faith,  the  fulness 
of  peace.  You  have  the  evidence  of  sonship  not  be- 
cause you  sorrow,  but  because  you  sorrow  after  a 
godly  sort.  You  find  it  sweet  to  draw  near  to 
your  God,  sweet  in  present  trouble  to  thank  him 
for  past  mercies,  sweet  to  say,  Even  so,  Father! 
sweet  to  feel  that,  however  it  was  before,  yon  are 
right  with  him  now.  There  seems  established  a 
relation  bet^veen  yourself  and  your  Creator. — a 
relation  on  your  part  more  filial  than  you  could 
have  believed  possible.  A  general  reliance  on  his 
wisdom  you  had,  a  vague  desire  to  conform  to  his 
will,  an  undefined  hope  that  he  would  work  some 
good  thing  for  your  soul.  Now^  you  are  not  qnite 
so  anxious  for  the  "good  thing" — for  the  smaller 
measure  of  spiritual  benefit — as  for  the  nearness 
to  God,  the  continuance  of  his  daily  support,  the 
bow  in  the  cloud,  the  strength  in  your  weak- 
ness so  plainly  not  your  own,  and  therefore  so 


LIFE    THAT   NOW   IS. 


86 


precious  and  abiding.  Oh,  not  your  own!  for  if 
you  leave  but  one  moment  the  attitude  of  depend- 
ence and  entreaty  you  are  tossed  back  into  the 
arena  of  conflict  and  fear.  Strong  bulls  of  Bashan 
beset  you  round  and  gape  upon  you  with  their 
mouths.  You  are  poured  out  like  water,  all  your 
bones  are  out  of  joint,  and  your  heart  is  melted 
within  you  like  wax.  Thoughts  of  past  happiness, 
of  purposes  broken  off,  and  of  a  future  without  in- 
terest or  hope,  unnerve  and  overwhelm  you,  and  you 
cannot  repair  to  the  covert  provided,  to  the  strong- 
hold of  Divine  presence  and  protection.  But  if 
you  preserve  your  nearness  to  God  by  submission 
to  his  appointments,  study  of  his  word,  and  prayer, 
it  is  as  if  you  saw  and  talked  with  him.  He  sus- 
tains you  with  firmer  supports  than  those  to  which 
you  were  clinging.  As  earthly  things  retire, 
the  love  and  service  of  God  become  prominent. 
Communion  with  God  was  once  to  you  simply  a 


86  PROMISE    OF    THE 

ftimiliar  phrase,  denoting  a  Christian  attainment 
which,  from  its  purely  spiritual  and  mysterious 
nature,  you  supposed  would  remain  to  3'ou  and  to 
most  persons  an  object  of  wavering  desire  and  im- 
perfect endeavor.  It  is  now  a  condition  of  your 
being,  a  permanent  habit  of  your  thought.  Your 
views  of  Christ  assume  in  a  measure  the  charac- 
ter of  the  figured  love  of  the  Church.  As  you  turn, 
baffled  and  unsatisfied,  from  the  pursuits  and  in- 
tercourse of  life,  your  soul  unmistakeably  calls  out, 
I  will  seek  him  whom  my  soul  loveth.  My  be- 
loved is  mine  and  I  am  his.  Come  unto  me  for  I  am 
sick  of  love — I  am  weary  of  low  thoughts  and 
earthly  contact.  I  yearn  with  unspeakable  long- 
ing for  strong  support  and  holy  affection.  I  sleep 
in  this  dull  atmosphere,  but  my  heart  waketh  to 
hear  the  voice  that  calleth  me.  My  beloved  is  the 
chiefest  among  ten  thousand,  yea,  he  is  altogether 
lovely. 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  87 

The  lesson  which  affliction  thus  improved  teaches 
to  the  Christian  is  not  forgotten.  An  estimate  is 
affixed  to  earthly  things  which  never  afterward 
materially  varies,  and  their  influence  on  his  affec- 
tions is  permanently  contracted.  Heavenly  love 
is  distinct  from  earthly  love  and  is  susceptible  of 
only  partial  comparison  and  description;  but  the 
Christian  can  confidently  affirm,  that  it  is  his  strong- 
est principle,  his  spring  of  action,  his  sufficient  con- 
solation, and  the  power  by  which  he  can  say, 
"None  of  these  things  move  me," — that  is,  none 
long  disturb  my  mental  balance,  none  change  ni}^ 
general  conduct  of  life,  none  separate  between  me 
and  my  God.  It  is  not  his  design  that  in  this  life 
I  should  attain  to  an  absolute  superiority  over  them. 
It  is  his  will  that  I  suffer;  when  I  fall,  he  has  al- 
lowed the  stumbling-block  to  be  placed  in  my  way; 
but 


88  PROMISE    OF    THE 

Though  I  fail,  I  weep : 

Though  I  halt  in  pace, 

Yet  I  creep 

To  the  throne  of  grace. 

Full  often  I  sit  under  his  shadow  with  great  de- 
light, and  his  fruit  is  sweet  to  my  taste.  He 
bringeth  me  to  his  banqueting-house  and  his  ban- 
ner over  me  is  love. 

In  our  earlier  Christian  studies,  we  viewed  such 
representations  as  have  just  been  attempted  of  at- 
tainable steadfastness  and  peace  in  the  midst  of 
trouble,  as  to  a  great  extent  literary  embellish- 
ment, the  unsubfitantial  suggestion  of  the  writer's 
enthusiasm,  or  the  delusive  promise  of  his  soul's 
longing  and  weariness.  As  such,  they  would 
but  mock  the  suffering  and  disappoint  the  expect- 
ation of  the  afflicted.  Our  heart  grew  bitter  within 
us  at  zmnh,  mere  tvords.  We  continually  read  and 
hear  much  on  the  subject  of  consolation  that  is 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  89 

irrelevant  and  ineffective,  imdiscerning  and  heart- 
less.   So,  mourner,  our  reasoning  may  seem  to  you. 
But  at  least  give  ear  to  us  when  we  urge  that  you 
will  never  obtain  relief,  b}^  which  Ave  do  not  under- 
stand the  hajDpiness  that  you  have  lost,  or  some 
earthly  equivalent,   but  composure  and  cheerful- 
ness, until  you  are  willing  to  consent  to  the  trial,  to 
accept  it  as  God's  appointment,  possibly,  in  the  way 
of  discipline,  certainly,  to  the  end  of  your  greatest 
and  permanent  advantage.     Your  natural  regret 
must  not  admit  ingratitude  and  repining,  nor  your 
wounded   spirit  disqualify  you  for  the  duties  of 
your  condition.    The  joy  of  deliverance  and  of  new 
mercies,  if  it  come  to  you,  will  come  with  tenfold 
delight  that  you  "waited  patiently,"  that  you  de- 
sired more  the  accomphshment  of  God's  will  than 
of  your  wish,  that  you  have  the  profit  for  which 
he  afflicted  you,  and  that  henceforth  nothing  can 
divide  you  from  his  love. 


90  PROMISE    OF    THE 

A  great  German  physician  defines  disease  as 
"an  accidental  or  spontaneous  reaction  of  the  sys- 
tem against  a  morbid  cause;"  and  another  writer 
has  nearly  the  same  thought: — "all  sickness  is  the 
struggle  of  nature  against  a  morbid  cause,  and  is 
the  result  of  a  double  and  distinct  action,  viz.,  of 
a  morbid  action  produced  by  a  morbific  cause,  and 
constituting  an  affection;  the  other,  a  healing  action 
set  in  oj^eration  by  a  vital,  healing  energy,  and 
constituting  reaction^  According  to  this  view, 
sickness  is  a  beneficent  violence,  a  timely  wjirning, 
an  intimation  of  a  hidden  evil,  a  friendly  tap  on 
the  shoulder  to  stop  and  mark  the  approaching 
danger.  In  close  analogy  is  the  working  of  sorrow 
in  our  moral  system.  It  is  a  struggle,  or  reaction, 
against  the  morbid  action  of  sin.  The  moral  organ- 
ization is  unsound,  for  sin  dwells  in  the  flesh  and 
spreads  its  poison  through  the  spiritual  nature ; 
and  though  in  the  case  of  the  Christian  the  pro- 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  91 

cess  of  purification  is  begun,  it  is  not  in  this  life 
made  complete.  If  sin  obtains  greater  influence 
and  impairs  the  health  of  the  soul,  sorrow  calls  at- 
tention to  the  peril,  obliges  the  sufferer  to  inquire 
intokthe  cause,  and  gives  him  no  rest  until  he  dis- 
covers and  applies  the  only  remedy  adapted  to  his 
case.  To  a  certain  class  of  j^ersons  prosperity  is 
especially  favorable.  It  imparts  confidence  and 
freedom  to  the  apprehensive  and  self-distrustful, 
who  too  gladly  grasp  the  blessing  to  hold  it  care- 
lessly, and  therefore,  ungratefully.  But  in  the 
case  of  most  persons  prosperity  hardens.  Ad- 
versity commonly  makes  the  heart  tender,  the 
conscience  sensitive,  the  will  pliant,  and  seems 
designed  to  prepare  its  subject  for  that  fuller  oper- 
ation of  the  Spirit  which  moulds  and  developes  the 
whole  being,  until  an  unformed  and  earthy  mass  is 
instinct  with  grace  and  beauty  and  becomes  the 
perfect  man  in  Christ,  the  fair  type  of  that  renewed 


92  PROMISE   OF   THE 

and  glorious  nature   to   which  hereafter  it  shall 
attain. 

We  have  said  that  affliction  may  be  the  means 
of  establishing  a  new  and  definite  relation  between 
the  soul  and  its  Creator.     Theological  writers  con- 
sider the  love  of  God  tojiis  creatures  in  the  two- 
fold aspect  of  the  love  of  benevolence  and  the  love 
of  complacenc?/, — the  one,  exercised  towards  all  the 
sentient  creation,  the  other,  excited  by  the  moral 
action  of  the  creature.     The  love  of  man  towards 
God  is  also  that  of  complacency,  or  approbation  of 
his  revealed  perfections,  and  it  is  in  addition  the 
love  of  gratitude.    It  is  common  to  us  as  creatures 
to  adore  God  in  creation  and  providence  as  oin- 
Father.     But  there  is  a  point  where  an  individual 
relation  begins,  where  the  Universal  Cause  becomes 
the  Father  of  m?/  spirit,  and  where  all  that  is  dis- 
tant, vague,  abstract,  is  brought  near,  defined,  and 
concentrated.     In  the  fulness  of  our  wonder  and 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  93 

delimit  we  exclaim,  "Who  is  like  unto  the  Lord 
our  God  who  dwelleth  on  high,  who  humbleth  him- 
self to  behold  the  things  that  are  in  heaven  and  in 
the  earth?"  We  do  not  attain  to  this  state  by  in- 
attentive observation,  feeble  desire,  and  careless, 
aimless  advance.  The  eyes  must  be  opened,  the 
heart  made  soft,  the  feet  set  in  the  way  of  God's 
commandments.  This  is  the  working  of  godly 
sorrow. 

If  we  consider  man's  capacity  of  loving  as  it 
exists  in  reference  to  his  fellow-men,  we  may  ob- 
tain some  imperfect  notion  of  what  it  may  become 
in  reference  to  the  greatest  and  best  of  beings. 
There  is  a  love  of  instinct,  of  propinquity,  of  habit, 
of  benevolence,  of  pity,  of  gratitude,  of  compla- 
cency, or  approbation.  But  the  love  of  which  w^e 
would  speak — human  love  in  its  broadest  significa- 
tion and  fullest  exercise — is  not  partial  in  its  char- 
acter nor  contingent  in  its  manifestation.     It  ex- 


94  PROMISE    OF    THE 

liibits  all  forms  and  is  independent  of  all.  It  is  free 
yet  involuntary,  discerning  yet  fixed,  inexhaustible 
in  its  nature,  and  never  satisfied  in  its  Avants.  It 
seeks  for  its  object  ever  greater  attainments,  more 
perfect  resemblance  to  the  highest  beauty;  it 
frames  the  compact  which,  according  to  an  Amer- 
ican writer,  is  the  noblest  that  can  exist  between 
man  and  his  fellow — "Let  there  be  truth  between 
us  two  for  evermore  !"  It  is  the  love  which  bids  de- 
fiance to  time,  is  not  subject  to  change,  which 
pervades  all  thought  and  action,  which  dwells 
in  the  eye,  rules  the  tongue,  informs  the  mind, 
cultivates  the  taste,  and  imparts  to  the  whole 
spiritual  being  the  dignity  of  its  own  heavenly 
and  eternal  nature.  It  is  the  purest  and  most  God- 
like of  our  emotions, — nay  more,  it  is  of  God,  dwells 
awhile  among  created  things,  but  rests  only  in  Him 
from  whom  it  is  derived.  The  intellect  is  in  one 
view  the  superior  portion  of  the  mental  organiza- 


LIFE    THAT    KOW    IS.  95 

tioD.  In  its  exercise  man  seems  most  removed 
from  the  brute  creation,  and  assumes  the  image 
of  Him  who  is  not  only  the  Framer  of  his 
body  but  the  Father  of  his  spirit.  But  the  emo- 
tion of  love,  "when  brought  under  the  purifying 
influence  of  the  Hol}^  Spirit,  would  seem  to 
constitute  man's  noblest  distinction.  There  is 
everywhere  a  bound  to  the  exercise  of  reason. 
There  is  none  to  the  exercise  of  love.  It  sup- 
plies all  deficiencies,  solves  all  problems,  over- 
leaps every  obstacle,  is  wide  as  the  world,  high 
as  heaven,  immortal  as  the  soul.  But  why  essay 
we  to  speak  of  that  which  the  tongue  of  Paul 
could  not  utter?  Enough  is  it  for  us  as  for  him 
that  of  abiding  faith  in  Christ,  hope  of  heaven,  and 
love  to  God  and  man,  the  greatest  is  love! 

For  this  illimitable  capacity  there  is  correspond- 
ing provision.  Love  embraces  earthly  objects,  but 
is  filled  only  by  the  fulness   of  God.      A  being 


9G  PROMISE    OF    THE 

eternal,  immutable^  infinitely  powerful,  wise,  and 
good,  becomes  to  man  his  Father,  his  Saviour,  and 
his  Sanctifier.  Imperfectly  declared  by  the  things 
that  are  made,  God  is  comprehended,  beloved,  and 
adored  in  the  person  and  teaching  of  Jesus  Christ. 
God  hath  shined  in  our  hearts  to  give  the  light  of 
the  Jcno2vledge  of  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of 
Jesus  Christ.  Whosoever  shall  confess  tliat  Jesus 
is  the  Son  of  God,  God  divelleth  in  him  and  he  in 
God.  He  that  dwellcth  in  love,  divelleth  in  God, 
and  God  in  him.  Mark  how  perfect  the  circle  of 
gospel  truth !  How  gloriously  these  blessed  declar- 
ations, these  rays  from  the  Sun  of  righteousness, 
concentre  in  the  divine  nature  and  tendency  of 
love !  Truly  our  fellowship  is  with  the  Father  and 
his  Son  Jesus  Christ! 

Scripture  is  given  to  declare  the  design  of  God 
with  regard  to  the  human  race.  As  the  agent  of 
that  design,  the  second  person  in  the  Trinity  is 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  97 

prominently    set   forth.      His    nature,    character, 
and  authority  are  variously  and  fully  exhibited. 
Of  him  prophets  spake,  and  the  desire  of  the  souls 
of  men  was  for  his  appearing.     The  object  and  re- 
sults of  his  mission  are  fully  announced,  not  in  the 
seer's  dim  A'ision  of  the  distant  glory,  but  by  the 
lips  of  the  God-man  himself,  who  stands  as  if  with 
outstretched  arms,  imploring  men  to  come  unto 
him  and  be  saved.     Thus  in  the   sacred  volume 
one  thought  predominates.     The  scheme  of  man's 
redemption  by  Jesus  Christ  provides  that  in  all 
things  he  may  have  the  'pre-eminence.    Some  one  has 
said  that  the  "glory  of  Christ"  is  the  idea  of  the 
Bible.     It  is  the  same  proposition  as  that  which 
we  have  stated,     Christ  has  the  pre-eminence  in 
man's  justification,  being  made  sin  for  us  that  we 
might  be  made  the  righteousness  of  God  in  him; 
he  has  the  pre-eminence  in  sanctification  by  his 
promise  and  gift  of  the  Holy  Spirit;  and  "the  only 

9 


98  PROMISE    OF    THE 

wise  God,  our  Savioiiv"  accomplishes  his  ministry 
of  reconciliation,  hy  presenting  his  faithful  ones 
faultless  before  the  presence  of  his  glory  with  ex- 
ceeding joy.  He  shall  have  the  pre-eminence  over 
every  human  object  in  our  affection  and  service. 
He  shall  have  the  pre-eminence  over  the  flesh,  the 
world  and  Satan,  over  death  and  the  grave.  This 
Christ  Jesus,  thus  of  God  made  unto  us  wisdom, 
and  righteousness,  and  sanctification,  and  redemp- 
tion, it  also  behooved  in  all  things  to  be  made  like 
unto  his  brethren  that  he  might  be  a  merciful  and 
faithful  high  priest  to  make  reconciliation  for  the 
sins  of  the  people.  The  arrangement  was  com- 
plete. The  scheme  was  vast  and  comprehensive, 
and  its  execution  thorough  to  the  minutest  details. 
The  superior  nature  is  not  satisfied  with  such  know- 
ledge of  the  inferior  as  the  creator  and  fiishioner 
thereof  might  obtain,  but  will  set  aside  its  own 
divine  excess,  change  its  sphere  and  contract  its 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  99 

vision,  assume  the  semblance  of  itself,  and  become 
acquainted  in  yet  another  mode  with  the  condition 
and  characteristics  of  humanity.  This  was  to  the 
end  that  mercy  be  of  perfect  quality,  that  faithful- 
ness in  no  jot  or  tittle  be  found  wanting ! 

Such  is  the  Saviour  who  offers  in  all  time  to  all 
who  are  troubled  his  sufficient  and  enduring  conso- 
lation. You  who  are  in  heaviness  through  manifold 
temptations  cannot  doubt,  in  view  of  Scripture 
assurance,  that  he  is  able  to  succor  you.  Do  you 
still  hesitate  to  apply  to  him?  The  record  is  very 
full  respecting  the  application  and  exercise  of  his 
ability.  His  appeals  are  not  indefinite  and  incon- 
sequent statements.  His  performance  is  simple, 
prompt,  effective;  and  its  mode,  manifest,  gracious, 
suggestive  in  the  highest  degree,  and  directed  often 
to  another  than  the  obvious  intent,  producing 
benefit  relative  as  Avell  as  personal,  eternal  as  well 
as  temporal.     His  expostulations,  persuasions,  and 


100  PROMISE    OF    THE 

invitations  are  earnest,  affecting,  winning,  beyond 
all  precedent  or  human  standard.  We  even  learn 
that  this  Jesus  wept,  and,  on  the  occasions  given, 
not  for  his  own  but  for  others'  sorrows.  If  you 
have  not  been  gathered  under  the  wings  of  that 
tenderness,  it  is  because  "ye  would  not."  Look 
on  him  a  little  longer  as  he  stands  before  you 
in  human  shape.  "  This  is  my  beloved  and  this 
is  my  friend,  0  daughters  of  Jerusalem !"  Ob- 
serve the  kind  and  encouraging  gesture;  listen 
to  words  of  an  infinite  wisdom  and  love!  Behold 
him  until  the  divine  and  glorious  form  so  fills 
you  with  delight  that  you  cannot  remain  afar 
off!  Give  ear  to  him  until  every  other  voice 
is  silent,  and  one  gracious  meaning  possesses  and 
controls  your  soul!  Then  the  detaining  grasp  of 
that  earthly  care  is  loosened,  and  you  find  peace 
and  rest  in  his  embrace.  Then  your  language  will 
be,  not  the  cavil  of  your  doubt  and  inexperience, — 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  101 

•'What  is  thy  beloved  more  than  another  beloved?" 
but  the  confident  and  rejoicing  testimony, — "Now 
we  believe,  not  because  of  thy  saying,  for  we  have 
heard  him  ourselves!"  Oh  to  have  such  an  appre- 
hension of  God's  lovingkindness,  such  an  unvary 
ing  trust  in  his  care,  such  a  view  of  the  action  in 
concert  with  regard  to  man  of  the  ever  blessed 
Godhead,  that  we  may  be  unterrified  by  the  trials 
of  life,  that  its  sufferings  may  produce  a  stronger 
faith  and  more  perfect  love,  and  that  when  we  are 
deprived  of  ordinary  hopes  and  enjoyments  we  may 
obtain  in  their  stead  "  the  treasures  of  darkness 
and  the  hidden  riches  of  secret  places!"  What 
matter  if  we  sorrow,  what  matter  even  if  we  have 
greatly  sinned,  if  now  we  sit  at  Jesus'  feet  and 
have  washed  them  with  our  tears,  for  our  faith 
shall  save  us,  and  sorrowing  or  sinning  we  go  in 
peace !  The  bruised  spirit  scatters  a  more  fra- 
grant perfume  of  gratitude  and  love.     The  flame 


102  PROMISE    OF    THE 

of  the  consuming  sacrifice  goes  up  toward  heaven 
from  off  the  altar.  It  is  not  for  human  thought 
to  rove  at  will  through  the  courts  of  heaven,  or  to 
behold  other  scenes  than  those  that  are  revealed. 
But  among  that  white-robed  throng  are  there  not 
some  of  more  radiant  mien  and  vesture,  some  who 
bend  lower  before  the  throne,  some  whose  voices 
ring  out  from  the  general  harmony  a  more  thrilling 
acclaim  of  thanksgiving  and  praise  ?  How,  mourner, 
shall  your  weeping  endure  through  the  night,  when 
this  inconceivable  joy  surely  cometh  in  the  morn- 
ing? Why  wait  for  your  translation  to  enter  on 
this  blessed  service  and  taste  the  delights  of  God's 
presence  and  love?  The  treasure,  though  it  be  in 
earthen  vessels,  is  already  yours;  already  with 
open  face  you  behold  as  in  a  glass  the  glory  of 
the  Lord;  already  has  the  change  begun  into  the 
same  image  from  glory  to  glory,  even  as  by  the 
spirit  of  the  Lord. 


LIFE    THAT   NOW    IS.  103 

The  conversion  of  sinners  is  always  longed  for 
by  the  true  child  of  God.  In  his  maturing  spiritual 
life  there  comes  a  period  when  the  progress  of  the 
converted  is  an  object  of  nearly  equal  solicitude. 
"Sometimes,"  wrote  James  Alexander,  "I  am 
almost  as  glad  to  observe  a  ripening  as  once  to  ob- 
serve  a    conversion:" — "I   thank    God    for   his 

mercy  to though  now  I  am  almost  as  anxious 

that  he  should  be  the  right  sort  of  Christian  as  I 
was  thit  he  should  be  converted."  As  Christians, 
we  direct  our  course  toward  the  same  mark  but 
pursue  it  w^ith  what  different  degrees  of  vigor  and 
steadiness.  We  may  so  conduct  it,  laying  aside 
every  weight,  that  w^e  shall  run  and  not  be  weary, 
and  wdth  such  fixed  gaze  on  the  prize  as  to  in- 
crease immeasurably  our  desire  and  hope.  To 
promote  in  some  degree  such  spiritual  effort  is 
the  object  chiefly  proposed  in  these  pages.  We 
have   endeavored   to   ascertain   by   the   light   of 


104  PROMISE   OF   THE 

Scripture  what  is  the  "i^romiseof  the  life  that  now 
is,"  and  to  observe  some  of  the  modes  of  its  fulfil- 
ment. From  this  examination  of  things  written 
aforetime  for  our  learning  we  have  derived  lessons 
of  encouragement^  consolation,  and  confidence  in 
God.  But  our  connection  with  the  subject  does 
not  terminate  here.  Not  only  nor  mainly  does  the 
Christian  live  for  his  own  instruction  and  comfort. 
The  glory  of  God  is  the  proper  end  of  all  his  action, 
all  his  knowledge,  all  his  suffering,  and  all  his  en- 
joyment. The  consideration  of  God's  faithfulness 
should  induce  not  only  firm  trust  and  lasting  peace, 
but  fervent  love  and  entire  consecration  to  his  ser- 
vice. To  them  that  fear  him  he  has  given  a  banner 
that  it  may  be  displayed  because  of  the  truth. 
Patriarchs,  apostles,  and  prophets,  saints  and  mar- 
tyrs, a  great  cloud  of  witnesses,  a  multitude  that  no 
man  could  number,  have  set  forth  this  truth  con- 
cerning a  covenant-keeping  God  by  lives  differing 


LIFE    THAT    NOW    IS.  105 

it  would  seem  in  every  thing  Scave  the  manifestation 
of  patience,  submission,  and  obedience.  "Whoso  is 
wise,  and  w^jll  observe  these  things,  even  they  shall 
understand  the  loving  kindness  of  the  Lord." 

As  we  have  heard,  so  have  we  seen.  Blessed 
be  the  Lord,  '•'  ''•  '•'  there  hath  not  failed  one  word 
of  all  his  good  promise.  According  to  thy  name, 
0  God,  so  is  thy  praise  unto  the  ends  of  the  earth. 
Fellow  Christian,  this  God  is  oiu-  God.  He  is  our 
God  for  ever  and  ever.  What  offering  shall  we 
bring?  What  new  song  shall  we  sing  unto  the 
Lord  ?  How  shall  we  give  unto  him  the  glory  due 
unto  his  name?  How  in  some  measure  declare  the 
mercy  that  is  everlasting,  and  the  truth  that  en- 
dureth  to  all  generations? 


m   Theological  Sernntary-Speer   Library 


1    1012  01002  4117 


